


Occulemens || Draco Malfoy

by preciousmetals



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), BAMF Daphne Greengrass, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Death Eaters, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flashbacks, Friendzone, Gryffindor, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff Common Room, Hufflepuff/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Memory Charm | Obliviate (Harry Potter), Occulemency, POV Draco Malfoy, POV First Person, Ravenclaw, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, Slow Burn, Slytherin, Slytherin Common Room, Slytherin Pride, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, dyin like men, no beta im sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:26:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27649508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciousmetals/pseuds/preciousmetals
Summary: It's always been eucalyptus and lavender. When Rowan Blake awakens to cinnamon and vanilla, she knows something is wrong.Her Slytherin friends no longer recognize her. Hufflepuffs who once spoke illy of her in hushed tones were now her confidants. There is a gaping hole in her memory, a pit in her stomach, and a certain blond Slytherin who seems to know too much.a slowburn fic, eventual spice. TW at the beginning of affected chapters. I don't own Harry Potter or any of JK Rowling's characters.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	1. You Are a Memory

**12/15/2020: I have edited this chapter for some clarity--general clean up as I do not have a Beta. Thanks for reading!!**

Hi guys! :)

This is a DracoxOC fic that has been living rent-free in my brain for a month or so, I just haven’t had the time to get it all down. I’m not sure that it qualifies as slowburn for this chapter, but from here on out, it will be. You’ll understand why at the end of this chapter.

I will be disclosing TWs at the beginning of any chapter where they’re necessary.

As always, I don’t own the Harry Potter franchise—none of JK Rowling’s characters or storylines came from my brain. I lay claim only to my own original characters who have been placed into JK Rowling’s world—Rowan, Orin, Callum, Maggie and Laura.

Chapter 1 — You Are A Memory

TW: blood, death, vomit.

* * *

**Rowan Blake.**

**Third year.**

I smoothed my robe in the mirror, straightening my green tie against my chest. I took one deep breath before I turned on my heel to slide the bathroom door to the side and exit. We were approaching Hogwarts for my third year—I felt like I’d never make it here. The break had stretched on, far too long sticky and humid in the United States’ Georgia heat, where my family had visited for two long months alongside the Diggorys.

The rain that now pounded against the windows was a comforting sound—no matter how humid it was in Georgia, it never seemed to _actually_ rain. When it did, it was not a cool drizzle, it was sideways rain that felt like microscopic bullets against your skin. When it finished, the air still felt heavy. There was no relief.

I walked slowly back to my shared compartment with Malfoy, Goyle, and Pansy. I had grown tired of Pansy’s longing stares into Malfoy’s eyes and excused myself to change clothes. As though he had the context clues to pick up on her complex feelings for him. I wasn’t convinced she felt love for him, but I’d believe that she lusted after him. After his family’s renown.

As far as I was concerned, he only cared about being an arsehole to those who he perceived as below him.

Which, to be fair, was almost everybody. Almost.

As I prepared to slide through the door to the correct section, a warm hand clapped down on the shoulder, pulling me backwards. I whirled around, facing the inviting smile of Cedric Diggory.

“Merlin, Ced! What do you need? We just saw each other,” I recalled, thinking of his father’s cigar-scented, organ-crushing hug I’d received shortly before departing for Hogwarts.

He rolled his eyes and dropped his hand. “You’d think you’d be nicer to an official Prefect,” he replied with fake concern, bringing his hand to his chest as though he’d been hurt.

I crossed my arms matter-of-factly. “Really funny. I don’t think you’ll be the one dishing out my Detentions this year. Try again. Is there something I can do for you?”

He fixed his own bag around his shoulder as he shrugged. “Not really. If you’d like to come to the Hufflepuff Common Room tonight, we’re having a small get together.”

“Because I obviously can’t get enough of you,” I said sarcastically, pretending to fawn over him.

“Yeah, right. I’ll wait at the edge of the Great Hall if you want in, alright?” He turned to make his way back to his own compartment and I shook my head in disbelief.

Cedric had been a good friend to me all summer. Our families ideals had always aligned, but our fathers had also been in Hufflepuff together. By default almost, Cedric and mine’s mothers had become quite good friends over the years.

As I crossed the threshold once more to duck back into my compartment, the ground shook beneath my feet. I snapped my head to the right to look out the window to gauge where we were. There was no way we were at Hogwarts quite yet. I had only been gone for five minutes, tops. the train stopped abruptly, knocking me onto my butt. I took a sharp intake of breath, immediately feeling the rug burn on my palms. I stood back up just in time for the lights to flicker once, twice, three times, before they were out.

I steadied myself against the sides of the window and stared into a never-ending abyss that was below the train. We must’ve stopped over a bridge.

Heights and me, we didn’t get along. My stomach lurched.

I turned my head to the left, meeting the icy eyes of Draco Malfoy, whose expression had a smug grin painted across his lips. “Can’t stay upright, can you, Blake?” He asked before he glanced around. I turned my head back toward the window. What could have caused the train to stop so dangerously abruptly?

“Blake, I want you to listen to me _very_ carefully, do you understand? Come back to the compartment _now._ Back up slowly. The door’s open.” Malfoy’s voice was even, but pressed.

“I’m still—”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Malfoy had grabbed a fistful of my robe, yanking me back into the compartment as he slammed the sliding door.

“Are you mental?” I demanded in a half-whisper as I stumbled into the compartment before his hand clamped over my mouth.

“Learn to _listen._ Shut _up_ , Blake,” Malfoy hissed, his hand pushing harder against my lips. 

I reached up and tore his hand from my mouth, swatting him away as I began to process the cause of the change in his demeanor. “Answer—”

His hand returned to its spot, the slap of his hand over my face stinging my skin.

The clear compartment door began to _frost._ I stared in silent horror, parting my lips as if I were going to try to speak despite the hand clapped over my mouth. Malfoy pressed harder. It was chilly outside, but not like this. The windows, which were fogged slightly beforehand, were almost hard to see out of with the amount of condensation forming.

Any trace of hope I had harboured felt as though it were being sucked from my body through a straw. An impossibly tall figure with flowing black robes slowly advanced through the train. I couldn’t pry my eyes away from its disheveled, decomposed state. It turned its head slightly, staring into our compartment.

Its eye sockets were hollow.

*

Georgia, USA.

**TW: death, blood, vomit.**

_Is this real?_

It was hard to breathe, I’d landed hard on the floor with a force that should have broken my ankles. I recognized this immediately as the vacation home that my grandparents on my father’s side had promised to leave to my family. The paint on the master bedroom walls were green, a shift from the floral wallpaper that I remembered being there. This was where we’d stayed last summer with the Diggorys.

Then, my eyes roamed to the figure in the middle of the room.

I crumbled to the ground on all fours, looking over her. Her blonde hair was a mess, caked with the dried blood from her head injury. My fists clenched into balls, shaking heavily from the adrenaline running through my veins.

I panted.

The blood was everywhere. _Her_ blood was everywhere. It soaked into the hardwood of the flooring, staining it red. She was laying on her back, lips parted, her eyes filmed over, yet staring into the doorway.

 _I’m going to vomit,_ I thought, dry heaving as though there was anything in my systemleft to excrete. Legs shaking, I pushed up onto my feet, stumbling forward once again, palms landing in a pool of red.

Everything was shaking uncontrollably; my cold skin slick with beads of sweat. I scrambled to the door, pushing away the thought that the empty darkness in the hall was likely the last thing she saw.

I couldn’t see straight. The stairs, which I had doubted the integrity of prior to this, creaked in massive protest under my quick stomps. I needed to get away from here. Put as much distance between myself and the shell of what was once her as quickly as possible.

 _What’s happening to me?_ Minutes ago, I was on the Hogwarts Express with Malfoy. 

_It is all so real. Is this real?_

I yanked the screen door aside and threw myself outside. I sighed in relief when I sucked in the clean, fresh air. I pushed my palms against the porch and heaved myself to my feet, cradling my head. As I made my way down the wraparound porch, I felt something rising in my throat as my stomach turned over. I leaned my head off the porch and vomited remnants of bile onto the plants in front of the home we were staying in.

When I opened my eyes, I was staring at myself, outside of the body I’d just occupied. I felt the familiar sensation of being blown away in the wind, my grip on this reality slipping.

_*_

I became aware that I was staring out the window from inside the compartment. At some point, I must have been quiet enough that Malfoy felt safe enough to remove his hand from my mouth.

No lost consciousness, no strange glances from the other three people in the compartment. That’s good, right?

“What in the—” Malfoy started to say before he stuck his head out the compartment once more. The lights had come back, but it didn’t ease the anxiety working it’s way up my throat. “Hogwarts better count its bloody days once my father hears about what just happened,” he said, voice cracking toward the end.

I swallowed the lump, thinking about the… Merlin, what would you call that? Hallucination? Vision? No one seemed to have noticed it even happened. I thought of the violent force in which I’d appeared in the vision, feeling the _realness_ of the pain, which had since faded.

“What _was_ that?!” Pansy’s voice was hysterical. “Was that—”

Draco’s voice didn’t shake this time. “A dementor. Potter better watch his back.”

We remained stopped for a couple more minutes before the engines started back up. I scurried across the way to sit myself next to Goyle so that I wouldn’t hear all about about how I was trying to separate Pansy and Draco later. I thought it was a bit funny, Malfoy and Pansy. 

Their “relationship” seemed to be made up of Pansy complimenting Malfoy; inflating his already-significant ego. This was a match made in Pureblood heaven.

 _How sad_ , I thought to myself. To be trapped in a world that was loveless, built around the idea that blood was more important than compassion.

I resigned myself to keeping my gaze on the moving landscape outside as the train began to move again. Whatever had happened was something that needed to stay shoved in the back of my mind.

*

The Great Hall on the first night back at Hogwarts was my favorite night of the school year, I’d decided. The lighting was always slightly lower with the levitating candles glowing softly. It was the first time seeing your friends in months, everyone was always glad to be reunited.

“I can’t _believe_ Potter fainted!” Draco mused, smiling into his dinner plate as he stabbed a piece of his roasted chicken and popped it into his mouth. He turned around once again, eyeing Harry Potter and his friends. Hermione Granger stared back blankly, almost as though she were trying to warn him.

“Potter!” Draco whispered with a sloppy grin on his face. “Potter!” Harry turned, eyes baring into Draco. “Is it true you fainted? I mean, you _actually fainted?”_

Ron Weasley rolled his eyes and tugged Harry back into a frontward facing position. “Shove off, Malfoy.”

If looks could kill, Ron’s would have. I was impressed by the meager red-head’s grit.

Draco turned back to face us, still beaming. Any day that Harry suffered at the hands of dark forces of public embarrassment, Draco had a few days of getting off on it.

“You’re terrible, Malfoy,” I commented with a small chuckle as I dished out another scoop of cooked carrots. “Horrid, really.”

Draco didn’t respond, but instead pulled his lips into a grimace as he turned back to glare at Harry once more. I rolled my eyes, not pushing my luck for tonight.

I chewed on the mushy piece of cooked carrot absently as Dumbledore stood to make his opening speech.

*

The Slytherin Common Room was one of my favorite places, besides the Great Hall on the first night. I loved the privacy that the Dungeons offered; it was as if no one could hurt us. I loved the gentle flame that lit the already-dim room. I loved the tables that had been set up on the side of the room, they were wooden and had carvings from Slytherins of the past, oftentimes carving their names and graduation date—but there were a couple of explicit messages that I could think of.

It had taken me a year to come to terms with where I had been Sorted.

My brother had been Sorted first. The Sorting Hat had hardly touched his head before it bellowed a sure “Hufflepuff!” Cedric clapped and brought his hands to his mouth to give a yell of congratulations.

I had been next. When the hat touched my head, it had paused. I froze, holding my breath. My mother had packed pretty yellow ribbon in my luggage in preparation for my Placement into Hufflepuff. He’d raised my brother and I to be kind, loyal, hardworking individuals with Hogwarts in mind.

 _But is that what I want?_ I questioned. As soon as the thought flew past my mind, the hat had decided. “Slytherin!”

A snake. As far as we’d been taught, I was a cunning, sly, distrustful snake.

I had found myself yearning for a light, warm Common Room on the first night as a Slytherin. Not a dark, musky Dungeon.

Nonetheless, I adapted. And I thank the stars each night that I wasn’t Sorted into Hufflepuff.


	2. Somebody Else

I stirred into consciousness to an unfamiliar smell lingering in the air. I rolled onto my side, cocooning myself into my blankets. The bed creaked under me as I rustled around, attempting to keep every bit of body warmth inside the covers.

No, not the overwhelming scent of Pansy’s Marc Jacobs Daisy perfume. I inhaled again, deeply this time. The distant scent of Daphne’s bundles of Eucalyptus that she had sat out last night to hang in the showers was missing. Rather, I was getting an undertone of cinnamon. My nostrils flared as the overly warm scent burned my nose.

I frowned and buried my head deeper into the pillow, regretting spending so much time writing Snape’s Potions paper last night. If only that arsehole didn’t assign so many feet of parchment. I flexed my hand under the pillow, surprised when it didn’t ache dully from gripping my quill so hard last night.

_The night before_

_“You’re going to hurt yourself if you think any harder, Blake,” Malfoy had said as we sat across from each other in the library. His icy eyes stared at my white knuckles as I gripped the quill. He reached out and plucked the quill from my hand, his long fingers swirling it around in the air. “What is it that you’re be struggling with so bloody hard?”_

_I flexed my hand, trying to restore blood flow. “Not all of us are Potions whizzes,” I’d replied carefully, not used to Malfoy forming a soft whisper. His words were typically confident and pronounced, but last night, they carried a bit of caution._

_Malfoy rolled his eyes. He would be furious if I knew that he was second to Hermione Granger in our class. He set down the quill and craned his neck so his head was eye-level with me—even sitting, he had the capability to have two or three inches over me with the new-found growth spurts he seemed to be having. Gone was the young boy with red cheeks and baby fat—somehow, he had been replaced in mere months with someone entirely different. Complete with an angular jaw, shaggier blonde locks, and a much taller, slimmer build. As I watched him, I realized he had been speaking._

_I shook my head. “Sorry, what?”_

_“Do you think,” he began, stopping to turn my parchment so he could read it. He tilted his head as he read. “You can simply pay attention and finish writing so we can go get supper? It’s not like Crabbe and Goyle are waiting for us so they can gorge themselves. I’ll bet they’ve gained a stone by now.”_

_I didn’t miss the subtle ‘we’. He didn’t stand up and leave me here. Our friendship wasn’t in my imagination. “Oh, so now you enjoy my company enough to eat together?”_

_He pulled his eyebrows together and shook his head, but toward the end broke his solemn expression with a smirk. “Not even a little bit, Blake.”_

_I picked up the quill again. “I think they have butternut squash tonight.”_

_The smirk on his lips almost pulled into a whole smile as he shook his head and focused back on his own parchment. “Then you better hurry up so we can go.”_

*

I cracked my eyes open slightly once again, met with the shining of the sun through the window. That was weird. Typically, we weren’t facing East when the sun was coming up. Our dorm room was dark and dreary until the afternoon hours when the sun would stream in for a couple of delicious hours. More than once, I had taken midday naps during autumn when there was a slight chill in the air. The sun streaming onto my face through the window was always my favorite staple of fall.

I blinked a few times, trying to fully wake up. It wasn’t out of the question that I wasn’t completely engulfed by reality yet; I always had such vivid dreams that I could never quite tell if what I saw when I opened my eyes was completely right.

The curtain pulled shut around my bed was wrong; an old, faded golden curtain with a black velvety border. I chewed on the inside of my cheek nervously. Something must have happened that put me in a private wing of the hospital. The last thing I remembered was Draco’s fingers grazing my cheek after our walk back to the Slytherin common room after supper. His eyebrows had fallen into a soft gaze when he brought his hand to my face, gently running his thumb across my cheekbone before turning and marching up to his room. Where his fingertips had once trailed felt warm compared to the rest of my now-cold skin. I would throw myself off the astronomy tower before admitting that his touch last night had been soothing.

I had just stood there, frozen, eyes wide. That was likely what spooked him into dropping his hand and turning to leave so abruptly.

Needless to say, I spent the rest of the night conflicted. Malfoy and I had never been _that_ good of friends. When I was Sorted into Slytherin, he hated my guts, in fact. My father was a Muggleborn—it was not unknown to the Malfoy family since my mother hailed from the Fawley family, who I’d nicknamed ‘the least bad Pureblood family’. When my mother married my father, it did not go unknown to a number of Pureblood families that she’d “dirtied” the bloodline. Her own family wasn’t totally keen on it, but didn’t scrutinize her nearly the way that the Yaxley and Malfoys seemed to.

She became an example of sorts. A warning of what happens when Pureblood family members step out of line.

To be fair, Malfoy didn’t know any better than to immediately hold disdain for me. His father, no doubt, had coached him to think lower of anyone who wasn’t like themselves. For the first year and a half that I attended Hogwarts, he took every chance he could to remind me that I was a misfit in Slytherin.

I spent many nights alone in the Common Room while everybody else studied together.

Draco Malfoy didn’t deserve this kind of airtime in my thoughts.

I opened my eyes once again, this time determined to actually get out of bed. I eyed the strange curtain curiously before glancing around for my wand. My eyes landed on it sitting idly on the nightstand next to the bed. Surely I had wandered into the Hufflepuff Common Room with Laura Frank the night prior and crashed in her bed. It wasn’t unknown to happen, but only when I was out past curfew.

I stretched my legs before letting one of my feet touch the floor. I cracked my toes against the hard stone below before standing completely. I tucked my wand into my pajama pocket—which must have also been Laura’s pants considering the yellow striped bottoms—before reaching to pull the curtain to the side. I tugged heavily, surprised at the force it took to move the curtain.

“Jesus!” A voice called from across the room. “Row, you aren’t usually awake this early.”

 _Did she just call me ‘Row’?_ I could’ve cringed. I hated when people called me that.

“Usually…?” I asked, blinking away the sleep from my eyes. I was typically an early riser. Across from me stood a tall, black-haired girl. Her hair was pin straight, a yellow bow holding a bun secure against the back of her head. She’d rolled her skirt up quite a bit to give the illusion of it being shorter, one button undone on her uniform shirt. I recognized her as Maggie King. 

She was the reason that Malfoy had given up on chastising me. From the moment he pulled me back in an attempt to keep me from breaking her jaw, he’d said that Slytherin were the only ones allowed to mess with me. 

“Where’s Laura?” I asked with a blank tone, looking back and forth. I was definitely in a Hufflepuff dorm room. The amount of yellow was sickening to be honest.

“Who, _Frankenstein_? Why are we looking for her?” I froze. ‘Frankenstein’ was the nickname that many Slytherin and Hufflepuffs had dubbed for Laura—she had a birthmark across her face that somehow made her the focal point of bullying. “Hello? Row, you’re scaring me.”

My lips moved on their own. “Right. Sorry, I think I’m feeling sick.”

“Today’s not the day for that, babe. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students are arriving today. You could also think of it as the day I’m meeting my soulmate.” She put her hands on her hips, her porcelain features almost sparkling. Her lips were naturally a dark pink, high cheekbones, and brown eyes that looked like melted chocolate. “So get a move on, we have to be in the Great Hall in an hour.”

My head pounded as I racked my brain for any possible explanation. I wasn’t sure what had happened here, but I knew for sure that Maggie King and I seemed to be friends. I was in the Hufflepuff dorm room. I was wearing Hufflepuff pajama pants. The cinnamon smell burned my nasal passages as I breathed deeply once more.

This was bad. I didn’t know how, and couldn’t understand why, but all I knew was this: I was no longer a Slytherin.


	3. So Cold

If there were ever a direct opposite to the Slytherin Common Room, it was Hufflepuff’s. I’d been here once before, with Cedric. It was smaller than Slytherin’s, a rounded room with light wooded beams stretching across the ceilings. There were simple house plants fixed upon the white brick walls. In the center of the room stood a large fireplace underneath a simple mantle. Warm, well-loved upholstered couches and chairs were lined around the fireplace. In a single word, I would describe the Hufflepuff Common Room as ‘cozy’; but ‘warm’ would be a close second.

The memories that I seem to have sustained were practical ones. I remembered how to get from the Common Room to the nearest bathrooms, from the Common Room to each of my classes. I seemed to know which classes I was enrolled in this year, as well. What bothered me, of course, was not being able to recall how I got here. I couldn’t very well begin to spout off nonsense about how I believed I was Slytherin because I’d learned that I had _friends_ in Hufflepuff. Friends who seemed to know me very well, friends who said hello to me in the corridors.

Maggie, unfortunately, seemed to be my best friend. Figures that I remembered her chastising me throughout my Slytherin days. She’d reminded me before I fled the dorm room that she wanted the dorm to herself tonight so she could have “alone time” with her newest toy, poor Aaron Abernathy. I could’ve gagged, but congratulated her on the newest notch on her bedpost nonetheless.

Who am I to judge? At least she’s happy. And not being catty toward me.

My wet hair still dripped down my back as my fingers secured my robe into its rightful place. I’d reasoned that this must be some sort of dream realm that I accidentally got stuck in. I’d wake up soon enough and have to promise myself to never ingest any Draught of Sleep ever again. Perhaps next time I required it, I would consider Potion for Dreamless Sleep so this wouldn’t happen.

_But if that were true, would you be so self-aware?_

Right, that. Unfortunate.

The new plan became to fly under the radar for now. Make everything up as I go along and hope that what I had dubbed “Awake Rowan” blended well enough with “Autopilot Rowan”.

I stared at myself in the mirror once again, just as I had on the train right before Third Year began. This time, I didn’t really recognize the person staring back. My hair had grown by about a foot, trailing down my shoulder blades. My jaw was more pronounced than it had been the year before, my own baby fat melting away. The skin around my neck had sunken, defining my collarbones.

I dropped the aluminum tin of Vaseline into my shower bag, using my finger to smooth it across my lips, deciding to not continue staring at the girl in the mirror. I’d had enough of her.

Right, Potions. Here goes nothing.

*

Maggie wasn’t in first hour Potions with me, unfortunately. The only face I recognized right off the bat from Hufflepuff was that of my twin brother, Orin; the true Hufflepuff between the two of us. He was compassionate, thoughtful, and observational. Everything I had wished I could be until I found my place during second year. He had his light brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail today, a couple of strands falling into his eyes. I wished we had been identical; he had beautiful, olive skin and instead of hazel eyes, he had dark green irises. He got what I had deemed the good genes from our father.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked as he readied his quill for the day.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? This is the barest I’ve seen your face since the end of second year. You and Maggie always coordinate your hair.” I almost wrinkled my nose at the thought. I’d never had much luck with making my hair go into intricate styles—I had also never toyed with the idea of makeup. Apparently that had changed.

“I said I’m fine, Orin.”

He stared at the front of the class, tapping his feet against the floor before speaking again. “I had sex last night.”

I blinked. _He what?_ I cocked my head to the right side, staring at him with wide eyes. He mocked my facial expression with dramatic eye movements. I picked up the nearest pamphlet of papers and smacked his shoulder. “With who?!” I asked in an outraged whisper. Were we old enough to think about this? Fifteen. I cursed the year I had lost.

“Ah!” He rubbed his shoulder as though I’d actually hurt him. “Did you hit your head? Hayley and I have been dating for four months.”

“Hayley?” I asked, my head spinning. “Were you—” I didn’t want to think about Orin engaging in sexual activity. “Were you guys _safe_?” I choked.

He hid his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Yes, Mum.”

“Jesus! I could’ve gone my whole life,” I whispered again. “Thanks a lot.”

“You’ll live. Do you want to hear about—”

“Absolutely not.”

Another snort from his end of the table.

I went back to staring toward the front of the room. How much had I missed? I rested my head on the palm of my hand, elbow leaning against the table. I smiled to myself, though. Orin seemed happy for a change.

That is, until a head full of blonde hair obscured my view. In front of me, sat Draco Malfoy. The boy who caressed my cheek the night before.

The night before? A year has passed since then, Rowan. Stop thinking like a year hasn’t passed by.

Somehow, Draco had become even more lanky than the year before. He probably stood five or six inches taller than myself at this point. He turned around to face us and I immediately recognized the smug look he reserved for those he deemed below himself. However, he seemed to swallow his words momentarily as he did a double take between Orin and I, as though he were processing something. He quickly composed himself, lifting his brows. “What, get tired of looking like a drowned raccoon, Blake?” He asked me, smacking Goyle’s shoulder as they chuckled together.

I was surprised at how naturally the words left my lips. Mechanically, almost. “Bugger off, Malfoy. Isn’t it time to get your roots re-touched? I think you’re turning brassy.” The words were almost _prissy._ I knew his hair was naturally platinum. Why did I say that?

Orin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest. “Aaaand welcome back to planet Earth, Rowan.”

Malfoy’s upper lip curled into a sneer as he turned back around to face the front of the class as I sat there in self-wallowing. Malfoy’s eyes met Pansy Parkinson’s as she entered the classroom. She smiled at him, stopping in front of Goyle. “Are you going to move?” She asked, gesturing to the stool he sat at. Goyle didn’t question any type of authority; it wasn’t in his blood. He stood immediately, shoving a poor Hufflepuff at the back of the class out of their spot before taking a new seat.

 _Tone down the testosterone, Gregory,_ I would have said to him if everything was right. But, everything was wrong, and I couldn’t try to reign him in.

Orin groaned as Malfoy’s fingers grazed Pansy’s knee. I, on the other hand, felt nauseous. _Pansy and Draco?_ Seriously?

“Yeah, yeah, watch and learn, little Blake.” I held in a small grin at Orin's nickname, almost glad that _something_ had stayed the same. Orin was two minutes, thirty seven seconds younger than me, earning him the “little Blake” nickname from Slytherin students. Back when I was one of them.

Snape followed behind Pansy shortly thereafter, dramatically turning to the class as he reached the front of the class. “Try to keep up as I demonstrate how to brew the correct Calming Draught.”

*

_Draco._

I couldn’t focus. Damn Blake. Damn me. Damn it all.

So stubborn, she was. Even in brain death. Is that even what I should be calling it? Her memories were safe—buried somewhere in the Manor library. From what I heard, Snape did a flawless job at extracting them. So, what _the hell_ happened? She was supposed to stay out of the way for the rest of our school years. Out of _my_ way.

For the past year since that fucking technical nightmare, she’d become a clone of Margaret King, one of the ineffectual Hufflepuff girls. Everyone who had Rowan on their radar had to be met with—everyone’s heads slightly altered. That’s not to say everyone underwent obliviation; I know that much. Father wouldn’t detail much to me about the exact magic that worked at such a wide margin.

The Rowan Blake that I’d come to have an understanding with had been wiped from this planet. Her brown hair was done differently. She buried her hazel eyes beneath black eyeliner, sometimes harsh eyeshadow.

Her favorite thing about herself had once been that she was flawed. She rubbed that fact in my face a number of times. _Not everyone can live up to your standards,_ she’d say. Now, she was far too proud to admit it.

Old her would have been plotting to beat the hell out of the girl she’d become. Didn’t even matter.

 _That_ Rowan was dead to me. At least, for the next several years.

Potions class had always been fairly easy to me. I sat back and watched Snape tear into the houses that Slytherin attended with. Be it the rowdy Gryffindors, the stuck-up Ravenclaws, or the smothering Hufflepuffs; I never tired of watching him berate them.

I turned the corner to enter the threshold of Snape’s classroom, surprised when Rowan was on-time. Typically, she’d waltz in moments after class began, earning her an angry glare from Snape. She’d smell like cinnamon. I’d gag. She’d say something along the lines of “Fuck off, Malfoy”, and that had been our routine for a year.

I didn’t like it when I realized that routine would be thrown off.

I turned to make a nasty remark when I was met with a ghost. Her hair was still wet, a small smile had still been painted on her lips but vanished quickly when she met my own eyes. Her smiles were no longer genuine, nor playful. They were smug. She reminded me of myself, to an extent. But that smile was _real._

Fuck. Doesn’t even matter.

She mattered to my parents, though. There was no way to know if she was actually awake. Not unless…

“What, get tired of looking like a drowned raccoon, Blake?” Goyle snickered next to me, and I smacked his shoulder, laughing along with him, as well.

She looked eerily close to being herself once more. She’d changed so much in the past year. At first, she looked alarmed. Until she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. She could’ve said nothing more and I would have understood that she was still gone. “Bugger off, Malfoy. Isn’t it time to get your roots re-touched? I think you’re turning brassy.”

I turned around. I shouldn’t have even bothered; Rowan Blake was the most ineffectual of them all. She didn’t even fucking matter.

*

_Rowan._

The walk to the Great Hall was filled by Maggie’s droning about Durmstrang boys. “I'm sure they have accents that are absolutely _everything_. We’ll have to give them a warm welcome.”

My day hadn’t gone as planned. I had held on to the hope that I had been having a vivid dream, but it didn’t seem as though I was about to wake up in my bed a Slytherin once more. As it turned out, I sucked at pretending to be Hufflepuff Rowan; apparently she was an entirely different person from myself. A cold bitch, I might’ve called her back in my Slytherin days.

“Are you even listening? _Durmstrang boys._ ”

I rolled my eyes. “As though you even need to be worried about it.”

She huffed and cocked an eyebrow as she loosened her robe. “You’re right. But they’re older. I need an edge. How did you cuff Ced?” She unclasped her robe, handing it off to me. I wanted to throw it on the ground and refuse to be her pack mule. I held on to the robe, though.

_Stay hidden._

The words had been in my mind ever since Potions. _Stay hidden._

Wait. Hang on. _“Cedric?”_ I asked in a high pitched tone, walking faster to catch up with her.

“Did you forget that you more or less have laid claim to him?”

I blinked. “No, of course not. I just haven’t seen him around today.”

Maggie shook her head. “Rowan Blake, you’re another breed.”

This time, the friendliness came more naturally as I smiled. “Why, thank you.”

As we entered the Hall, I fought the instinct to file to the right of the room, to sit with my friends. Could I call them that anymore? I missed Daphne and her no-bullshit attitude. I got the feeling that Maggie was fake-nice—which struck me as being worse than just being her typical rude. What was worse, I’d seen Laura on a couple of occasions today, but she simply shrunk away from me as though I was going to tease her. Call her Frankenstein. I hated it.

I followed Maggie toward the Hufflepuffs. She sat next to Hayley Aiken, the girl who Orin had… well, yeah.

“I hear a congratulations is in order, Hayley,” Maggie said, smiling dreamily. “Congrats, slut. And with Rowan’s twin? Weird shit.”

Hayley’s face fell, bringing a pit to my stomach. This wasn’t me. “Oh let her live,” I said, watching as Maggie turned on me, brows pulled together at my defense of poor Hayley Aiken, who now looked surprised at my defense, as well. Was I that much of a bully? “What? Orin is happy,” I added to save myself.

“I’m sure he is, Row, but when was the last time we were _friendly_ with Orin?”

What? No. Even in this life, I was at odds with my brother? No. “I dunno. Today was alright. I think we can fix things.”

Maggie seemed as thought she totally forgot that Hayley was watching, raising her voice. “He called you a heartless bitch, Row. Did you forget that we aren’t friends with Golden Child Orin? Jesus, what is _up_ with you today? It’s like you’re brain dead.”

I probably had it coming, if we’re being honest. My head pinged with pain behind my eyes. This time, the words were firmer. _Stay. Hidden._

“Fuck. You’re right, Mags.” Internally, I was barfing. “Fuck him.”

Maggie gave Hayley a shit-eating grin before standing back up, leading me toward another group, only one of which I noticed; Cedric.

I felt empty inside as I sat next to him. I would wake up tomorrow and things would be set right, they had to be. This had to be someone pulling the most intricate prank ever.

As I sat, Cedric draped his arm around my shoulders, leaning in and kissing my temple. He seemed far away as Dumbledore called for order. I shot one final glance toward the Slytherin table, met with icy grey eyes staring into my own with muted anger.


	4. Sirens

_Rowan._

The Great Hall looked brilliant. People were still filing in from watching the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students land on the grounds; leaving the staring contest between Malfoy and I uninterrupted. He looked angry at me, his upper lip curled in, as though I'd done something to slight him recently; minus pointing out his obnoxiously blonde locks. It continued on that way until Cedric's hand, which had remained draped around my shoulders, turned my head to face him so he could peck at my lips.

The kiss was momentary—lasting only one second. His fingers rested below my chin as he lifted my head to meet his. In that one second, I gathered that Cedric and I's relationship must have began as one to upkeep looks. Our families were friends, and I could tell from the gentle movements of his jaw that despite our wild age gap, something had been there between us prior to my awakening. Perhaps in the one year missing from my memory, we had formed some meaningful relationship.

Does that mean that I owe it to him to blend in and make it work in this new, strange life?

I turned back to Malfoy, who had since looked away, but kept his expression stone cold. I shrugged away from Cedric's touch, smiling at him reassuringly when he looked at me quizzically.

Malfoy didn't stay very angry once the Beauxbatons girls filed in, much to Pansy's disappointment. Their feminine, floral scent lingered across the Great Hall as they gracefully took their seats. They looked slightly perturbed, although I couldn't imagine the problems one could possibly be having if they were so beautiful. Maggie would fit right in among them; her features were so symmetrical, and as strange as it felt to admit it, her movements always seemed so calculated and gentle.

Even Cedric, who I had to shrug away moments ago on grounds of being too handsy, kept his eyes on the girl with the long, beautifully blonde hair.

The men of Durmstrang were not as attractive as Maggie had promised; but I would be willing to admit to their toned arms, if you asked. "That one," Maggie whispered from across the table, gesturing toward the boy near the back of the crowd. He had short, black hair, curved lips, and though he seemed shorter than his classmates, he still stood around Cedric's height. "That's the one."

"They're humans, you can't lay claim to them," I whispered back with a smirk.

She kept her crystal eyes fixed on the Durmstrang boy. "Says you."

The pit in my stomach returned without warning, raveling itself so tight I wanted to gag. Was I really having a good time with Maggie King? Joking with her as though she didn't circulate the worst rumors about Orin in years past? I watched the Slytherin table again, this time looking past Malfoy to find Daphne.

The final night before everything changed, she had laid out her newest batch of eucalyptus. _"Hanging it in the showers just makes you feel right, doesn't it?"_ She'd ask me before spritzing some lavender around the dorm; which she said would help us wake up feeling more rested and relaxed. She was my partner in crime, now smiling and whispering to her younger sister, Astoria.

I missed her more than I could express.

Though I seemed to be surrounded by friendly faces and a seventh year boyfriend, I had never felt more alone.

*

Maggie returned back to our table toward the end of the dinner, leaning in as she squealed. "His name is Alexander. He's a Sagittarius. Favorite color is red. Pronounces my name in a slow, deep tone. _Mar-gar-et._ "

"You got that much from what? Three minutes of conversation?" Cedric asked playfully, squinting his eyes at her.

"Two," she corrected. "I'm showing him around tomorrow. He's totally mine for the year."

"Like I said," I started, checking one more time on the Slytherin table, watching as Malfoy, Goyle, and Zabini stared after the Beauxbatons girls. My eyes rested on Malfoy unwillingly before I pulled them back to Maggie. "You can't claim a human being."

"Can't or shouldn't?"

I rolled my eyes. "Guys, I'm really exhausted. I'm going to head up to bed."

Cedric stood as I did. "I'll walk you back."

I appreciated his chivalry, flashing him a small smile. "Ced? I'm really okay to walk myself. I'll see you tomorrow." I turned before he could lean down to kiss me again—I couldn't remember my first kiss, presumably it had been with Ced. I couldn't process everything at once.

Absently, I walked through the corridors, wrapping my arms around myself to hold everything together.

I had weighed the pros and cons of staying silent, of accepting that this was the way that things were now. Not questioning what had happened and pretending this was how it had always been.

That's the problem. This isn't how things are supposed to be. I couldn't just _forget_ the connections I had made in Slytherin. I particularly liked my lot of friends there, despite the number of friends I seem to have gained from joining Hufflepuff.

That wasn't to say that I didn't like Hufflepuff. I wished for a whole year after being Sorted into Slytherin that I could have been Sorted here originally. I longed for warmth, compassion. That was before I found my people. My tough lot. Blaise, Gregory, Daphne, even Malfoy and Pansy.

My chest ached as I snapped back to reality; cursing my ability to be consumed in my thoughts. My legs had led me to the staircase to the Slytherin dungeons. My best thinking had always been done in the Slytherin Common Room. I lowered myself onto the first step; resting my back against the wall. I stretched my legs in front of me, accepting that I couldn't acceptably go any further. I may even be questioned for being _this_ close to the dungeons if anyone noticed me here.

I had about fifteen minutes before dinner was officially over. About ten, then, to sit here and allow myself to simply be.

I rested my head against the wall, staring toward the ceiling. The stone around me was cold, leaving my legs cold under the skirt I had chosen to wear today. It was almost completely dark down there, minimal lighting coming from small candles emitting at the bottom of the staircase.

If I went down the steps even further, I would eventually happen upon the stone wall where I could enter the Common Room. The password changed every fortnight, so even if I wanted to break in, it was impossible. I imagined the green glow of the lamps, the leather couches that creaked when people piled on.

The pit in my stomach was wound as tight as could be, screaming that I shouldn't be here right now. _Stay hidden._ I groaned gently at the words, wondering if perhaps it was really something I'd made up. This morning, I had no doubt that my memories of being a Slytherin were the real ones. Now, they had a veil over them. Perhaps I _did_ hit my head before going to sleep last night.

I knew whose footsteps were approaching before I could process their face in the dark. "What are _you_ doing down here, Blake?" Draco Malfoy's harsh voice asked. He almost sounded tired.

"I don't know," I said honestly, staring straight ahead at the wall before rolling my head to the left against the wall to meet where his voice was coming from.

"You _don't know?_ " He repeated, spitting his words. "Then maybe you should go away."

"Maybe you should mind your own business for once in your life, Malfoy." It was a weak response, but I didn't feel like arguing.

"How _dare_ you speak to me like that, little Hufflepuff?" His voice was closer now as he passed by. "I said _leave_. Now."

"Leave me al—" I gasped as my head felt as though I'd been struck with a brick. I brought my left hand up to the side of my head, feeling for anything that may be wrong, groaning. When my fingers touched my hairline, darkness closed in.

*

TW: blood.

_I opened my eyes to a dark room, similar to the darkness that I remembered sitting in leading to the Dungeons. My ribs ached dully, the left side of my head felt as though it were leaking warm fluid. It had to be blood. I brought my head up to meet the eyes of Professor Severus Snape, who had his wand pointed centimeters from my face. I shoved myself to my feet, reaching for my wand, which was not in its typical pocket._

_My speech was garbled. I couldn't control what I was saying, indicating that somehow, I was reliving a memory. "Professor, I'm—" When I swallowed, I felt as though I'd swallowed burned sandpaper._

_He simply grimaced, keeping his expression even. His words were pronounced, as though he were afraid I wouldn't hear him correctly. "Stay. Hidden."_

_I shook my head rapidly, pleading, ignoring the pain. "You can't—"_

_"Obliviate." I dropped like a sack of potatoes, my eyes still open as I tried to hang on to my consciousness, which was rapidly slipping away._

*

The pain in my head subsided, which seemed to please Draco, who look quite concerned if that were ever possible for him. To my surprise, he was next to me on the floor, his hand holding some of my hair out of my face. It reminded me of the night that he reached out and let his thumb run across my cheek. The last night I remembered in Slytherin.

As I came back to, his lips fell into a frown and he shoved away from me as though to pretend he'd never been there in the first place. "You're so fucking dramatic. I won't say it again, Blake. I don't want to see the likes of you around here. Do us both a favor and stay away." He walked past me, not making sure that I would actually stand up and vacate the premises.

He didn't have to check; he knew I would do as he said this time. I stood on wobbly legs, quickly trying to get away from there—frightened by such a vivid memory.

 _It's like you were there,_ I told myself. _You felt the pain. You_ were _there._

Adrenaline poured through me, reaching every inch of my body, causing my legs to shake underneath me. As I exited the corridor leading to the Dungeon, I passed by Daphne and Pansy, both of which met my eyes.

I could have sworn that there was some recognition on Daphne's gaze.

*

I awoke the next morning in the same bed, to the same overwhelming scent of cinnamon. My stomach twisted.

_Oh, fuck. This is happening. This is not a dream._

**This was kind of a short chapter, I'm very sorry!! :') I also posted this on Wattpad under peachberryjuice if y'all are interested in reading this on there instead or in addition to here.**

**Lemme know how you guys are feeling so far!!**

**Yeehaw :') -preciousmetals**


	5. Clocks

“Trick or Treat,” Cedric said innocently, setting down a package in front of me with Sugar Quills inside. I smiled both at his use of Muggle holiday humor and the quills, which were relatively high on my list of favorite candies. They could only be topped by Honeyduke’s Strawberry Cream chocolates—which were only available during winter months.

“Thank you, although Halloween isn't until tomorrow,” I murmured back, pushing my hair behind my ear. The same way that Draco Malfoy had done the night before when I violently remembered Severus Snape using a memory charm against me. I had stewed on that overnight, allowed myself to cry into my pillow under the cover of the night, and decided that I was not going down without finding out what happened or why.

And Draco Malfoy was not off the hook.

“Are you nervous for tonight?” I asked to make conversation, suddenly feeling shy with Ced. I’d never had this problem before; he was always _just_ Cedric to me. I couldn’t understand how we escalated to being in a relationship.

Cedric took a bite of toast, chewing as he thought about my question. “No,” he decided, shaking his head. “I think no matter what happens, it’ll be alright.”

“Brave. I’d never,” I replied, setting my elbow on the table, then resting my head against my hand. My eyes roamed to the side of Cedric’s head, watching the other side of the room as Pansy fingers curled around Draco’s wrist. They were sitting next to each other; while Pansy looked absorbed in him, but he stared right back at me.

I could almost hear his voice in my head: _“What the hell are you looking at, Blake?”_ I chewed on the inside of my cheek before darting my eyes to Pansy. It was subtle enough that only Malfoy would see—only he’d understand. He raised one brow in response. _“What, are you jealous?”_ He would ask if him and I were still budding a friendship.

But, no longer.

“Are you sure you're feeling alright?” Cedric asked, cocking his head, taking in my appearance for the day. I’d chosen to forego makeup once again after staring at it in complete confusion this morning. “Not that I don’t think you’re attractive no matter what you do, but…”

I stared in anticipation of the end of that sentence, dropping some egg off of my fork, biting my cheek to keep from smiling. “Let me know when you can finish that sentence, alright?” I let my smile surface as I gathered my belongings. “I’ve got Divination for first block today.” I stood, heading in the direction of the Entrance Hall.

“Rowan,” Cedric called after me. I turned around, met with his toothy grin. His eyes roamed lazily from my face down my body, back to my eyes. “I believe I overheard one of the Ravenclaws discussing star charts for Trelawney today. I’ll see you tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, turning on my heel. “Yes, you will.”

*

Professor Trelawney’s class was my least favorite. I tended to feel as though I were playing a constant guessing game when I was there; unsure of the answers that she was looking for. I had been relieved to hear that this year, we would be focusing on astronomical themes and planetary divination; it felt more real than the precious year’s content.

It was Orin’s hand which blocked me from setting down my books at the small round table he was seated at. I had planned to sit next to him, but he shook his head. “Twin interaction twice in one week is too much for me,” he said, nostrils flaring.

I stood in the same place, unmoving. “Orin?”

“Listen, I really thought you got over whatever has been wrong with you recently. Hayley told me what happened last night. Fuck me, I guess, right?” He asked, referencing the rude comment I made to Maggie about him.

“I—” I wished with every fibre of my being that I could tell him everything. I clutched my books closer to my chest and doubled down. “I’m sorry.”

He glanced around the room, surveying the mostly still-empty room before speaking again, this time his voice lower than it was before. “Do me a favor and pick whether or not you’re a human being. Sometimes you’re this… heartless robot. Other times, you’re you. Stop jerking me around.”

 _A heartless robot._ Maybe I really had been on autopilot for a year if Orin didn’t even recognize me. He could tell something was wrong, and I hated hiding from him.

I simply nodded, electrocuted by his harsh words. Awkwardly, I turned away from the table he was sitting at. “Yeah, okay,” I murmured before fleeing the scene.

I climbed the steps toward the back of the class and dropped my things at the next-closest table behind him, doing so in order to avoid being seen any more than I had to be. The tables near the back were more elevated, on a higher step than the ones in the front; but they seemed safer. I stared at the purple altar cloth on the small table, picking at the details in the stitching as my anxiety bubbled in my throat. Every hair on my arms stood on edge.

Strange how things could feel so normal—this morning at breakfast, I had almost forgotten that things were all wrong. Now, I was hyperaware of the situation once more.

Hayley sauntered into the class, taking the spot next to Orin, shooting a sideways glance toward me. I avoided her gaze, darting my eyes to the other side of the class, where I presumed Slytherin house might sit; totally divided from us.

We only had Potions and Divination with Slytherin house—as I’d learned by noting their absence in all other courses. I was enjoying Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures with Gryffindors, now that I felt I had license to open myself to them. Neville Longbottom was one of the kindest, gentlest humans I’d associated with this year.

I kept my eyes cast down until a voice snapped my eyes upward. “Not so bright eyed now that your dear boyfriend isn’t around right now?” Draco Malfoy stood next to my table, slinking his leather bag down his shoulder as he lowered himself into the chair across from mine.

I sighed angrily. “I can’t deal with you today, Malfoy, I really can’t.”

“Really tough morning by the looks of it,” He said, waving to my appearance, setting fire to my veins. Red-hot anger rolled through me. I was tired of people commenting on it. There were no photographs to reference to know what a wild difference there was between me three days ago and now. My appearance didn’t, and would continue, to not make a difference in who I was a person. Today, I had opted for pinning my hair into a loose bundle on the back of my head with a wooden pencil, a few stray locks framing my face. Maggie, Cedric, and Malfoy were now on the list of those who questioned it. I gripped my quill with excessive force; not caring if it snapped.

“Fuck off,” I spat through my teeth, considering stabbing his hand with the pointy end of the quill. My anger only seemed to amuse him further.

I opened my mouth to snap at him and reached for my own bag to stand up and move tables as Professor Trelawney stepped to the center of the room. “Stars!” She exclaimed dramatically. “They light up our night sky; fill our nights with beauty. But how can we use planetary alignment for our magical purposes?” She questioned, putting her finger to her lips.

I turned back to Draco, huffing as I quietly tore off a corner of parchment. I dipped a quill into dark ink, scrawling an angry note.

_Move before I remove you forcibly._

I threw the note toward him as Trelawney turned her back. He read it quickly before shooting me a confused glance. Just as quickly as the confusion hit him, his expression fell to a blank, emotionless one.

His handwriting was clearly rushed, but it was still a near-perfect cursive script. My handwriting was chicken scratch next to his.

_You and what muscle mass? I’ve sat here the whole term, darling._

Fuck. That wasn’t very “blending in” of me. I swiped my tongue across my lips before crumbling the note up and tearing it. He watched my fingers as the parchment tore. Every little thing about him was condescending now. I couldn’t believe I wanted to be friends with him once. I shouldn’t have been this surprised—I’ve known since the beginning that Malfoy was not a good person.

I vowed that I would not give Malfoy any more edge for the rest of the block. I instead focused on the lesson, which was not particularly easy to follow. Trelawney tended to go on tangents—this time a tangent about the power behind the Muggle zodiac signs.

“…So fascinating. Imagine—your personality matched by planetary alignment.”

It was when another note slipped over my side of the table that I unfocused.

 _It’s a bunch of bullshit,_ the note read.

I read it twice. Was Malfoy trying to make conversation? What the hell? I eyed him cautiously, mouthing _“Stop.”_

He snickered before quickly writing another note. _Don’t get your knickers in a bunch. I’m being friendly. You should thank me._

I scoffed aloud and shook my head, this time gathering my things and standing up to evade him. I could not believe the _audacity._ This class was run by a quack, anyhow. Thankfully enough, I had sat towards the door. I stood and quietly ghosted out the door, throwing one more angry glance towards him.

Once I was clear of Malfoy and in the corridor, I could think clearly once again. I leaned back against the wall, holding my chest. I stood just clear of the door, where I knew I wouldn’t be spotted.

Orin hated me. I’d lost my friends, except for my oldest friend. I didn’t want a relationship with Cedric, I wanted to go back to being his partner in crime. He’d know what to do. I couldn’t bear to tell him anything right now, though. I didn’t want to watch the disappointment in his eyes when I said I couldn’t feel the same way about him yet. Professor Snape used a memory charm against a student.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I pushed off the side of the wall, determined to get some answers.

*

Admittedly, it wasn’t my best plan. Swooping into Snape’s classroom guns-a-blazin’ sounded good in theory. My thoughts were clouded by anger—I wanted my life back. One day was enough. I was tired of trying to keep up appearances. He knew something, and I needed to know what had happened.

I had slipped my wand from my back pocket into the pocket in my robe, as though I would ever be brave enough to pull it on a Professor—especially Snape.

I had stepped three feet into the class before Snape, who was turned away from me, rummaging through a drawer, stopped me. “Ms. Blake. I do believe that you should be in class, should you not?” He asked calmly, pointedly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, ignoring that I could feel my pulse in my head as adrenaline rushed through me. “I do believe that Dumbledore would be interested to hear how you performed a memory charm on a student.”

He turned slowly, one eyebrow raised. “That is a serious accusation to throw around without care.”

I tried to keep my face even. “It is, isn’t it? Imagine my surprise when I woke up in the wrong house yesterday morning. I could’ve gone straight to Dumbledore, I suppose. It would be your word against mine, and he doesn’t have any answers,” I explained calmly.

“How _dare_ you?” He demanded, his facial expression twisting in annoyance as he stepped out from behind the desk he’d been rummaging through, sweeping his hair from his eyes. “You are in no position to demand _anything._ ”

My breath hitched. “You’re not denying anything, Professor.”

His nostrils flared. “Leave. Now. Never speak of this to _anyone,_ or so help me—” He stopped, eyeing my hand, which had been hovering over my robes just incase.

Quicker than I could make a decision as to whether or not to draw my own wand, he drew his, murmuring an incantation I didn’t recognize.

His words were laced with muted rage. “You’re going to _listen to me for once_ and stay quiet for everybody’s sake.”

I recognized what was happening too late as everything turned white.

*

I turned the corner outside of the Potions classroom, chewing the inside of my cheek as I brainstormed where Snape could be. Typically, he wasn’t social enough to crawl away from his beloved pantry or classroom.

I’d gone to find him, to demand answers, but he wasn’t there.

I huffed and drew my bag over my shoulder, praying to make it back to the Common Room before Filch spotted me. Snape couldn’t avoid me forever—not that he’d been avoiding me this time as much as I coincidentally showed up while he was out. It was almost a strange relief, a total 360 from how I’d been feeling just minutes ago. I wasn’t sure what I’d even say to him if I confronted him. I should heed his original words and stay hidden.

It was my face crashing into someone’s shoulder which pulled me from thought. _Ah, fuck._ I wasn’t prepared to deal with Filch.

Instead, it was arguably worse: Cedric. Prefect Cedric. Boyfriend Cedric. Disappointed puppy eyes Cedric.

“Rowan? Sweetheart?” He asked, bringing one hand to my cheek and the other to my shoulder, steadying me. “Are you feeling alright?”

 _Sweetheart._ I squeezed my eyes shut before opening them again. “I’m alright, Ced. Malfoy,” I explained, figuring his name was enough.

“Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?”

“Yeah. He’s in my Divination class. If I stayed there any longer, I was going to throttle him.”

Cedric dropped his hands, pulling me to the side of the corridor as classes switched. Strange, I could’ve sworn there was still plenty of time left…

“So you left class thirty seconds before it ended? You couldn’t stick it out? You’ve got to be the bigger person.”

My mouth hung open. “The bigger person? That’s not hard to do with him.”

Cedric shook his head and pinched his temple. “I’m just going to forget I heard you admit to skipping class.”

“I appreciate that,” I replied sarcastically, annoyed with everyone and everything at this point.

“I’m trying, alright?”

I sighed. I knew he was trying. I stepped forward and experimentally wrapped my arms around his waist, carefully laying my head against his chest for a moment. “I’m sorry. I’ve just had a strange few days.”

His arms wrapped around my shoulders. “It’s fine,” he said into my hair. “I just wish you’d talk to me about it.”

Merlin, I wish I could.

I pulled away, smiling gently. “I’m going to run by my room real quick for my jumper.”

“Oh. It’s in my room. You left it there on Sunday evening. I washed it for you,” he said casually, as if he was trying to blow it off into something that wasn’t a big deal. “You have my extra key. I’ve got to meet Cho—I’m tutoring her in Herbology.”

I blinked. Why was my jumper in there? “I must have forgotten about that. Thanks,” I said, trying to remain cool and collected as he leaned down to peck my lips once before turning to head in the opposite direction.

*

Cedric’s room was neat and organized—his laundry folded crisply in a small basket near the bed. I had located my jumper fairly easily, thankfully, but was now sitting on the edge of his bed, pondering how many steps Cedric and I had taken in this relationship.

I had been fairly decided that we’d kept it strictly to kissing given our two-year age gap—but if I stayed here sometimes (which was beyond against the rules—Cedric earned a single room with his Prefect status and was expected to not take advantage of that fact), I had begun to formulate doubts.

I brought the jumper to my nose and inhaled experimentally. Sandalwood was the first scent I noticed, and then sensed undertones of amber as I exhaled. Definitely Cedric. I suppose I could have feelings for him. Someday. I hated that I couldn’t even remember how him and I had happened. I loved Ced; I always would—but not in _that_ way right now. Even if I wanted to. Even if he was a comforting friend to me. I needed time.

Taking one final glance around the room, I stood. If there was one way I could get answers, it was to check his bathroom. I stepped through the doorway, turning to face the mirror. I pulled it aside, checking for anything that may be indicative of how things were going for Ced and I.

I surveyed the items in his cabinet. One black toothbrush, one green toothbrush, one pack of floss, a stick of plain deodorant, and a stick of cherry blossom deodorant. I definitely stayed every so often, but it didn’t seem like often enough to warrant having my own shampoo or any menstrual products. That was good news.

I shut the cabinet, satisfied with that information for now.

*

I had begun to develop a distaste for the Great Hall. It reminded me of what I was missing. I hadn’t dared speak to Daphne, afraid of doing any irreparable damage. I wasn’t totally opposed to pushing Malfoy, but without knowing how this would play out in the end, I didn’t want to impose too much on my old family.

“You look like a lost puppy,” Maggie said as she swooped her legs over the bench next to me. “Let me tell you about Alexander. He’s _such_ a gentleman!” Maggie whispered as she began divulging every detail of her day with him to me, thinking I wouldn’t notice when she shot a longing glance toward him. “He could be good for me,” she finished, hiding her head in her hands.

“Oh shit,” I said, catching even myself off guard. “You’re serious about him.”

She smacked my shoulder, laughing. “Dead serious, you bitch!”

“Look at you go! My little girl… all grown up,” I said dreamily, laughing along with her. I was surprised at how _relieving_ it felt to do so. The past thirty-six hours had been completely wrong, but I couldn’t deny that somewhere deep, buried inside, there was a good person in Maggie. A real person with real feelings; not just a bully.

My thoughts roamed to Draco as I poked at my stewed broccoli, popping a piece into my mouth. He wasn’t here yet, thankfully. I never seemed to have a brain when he was involved. I had been convinced up until now, that was an effect of the white-hot anger I experienced when dealing with him now. Could he be a real person with real feelings behind the layers of walls he had built around himself? Or was he as shallow as he tried to make himself come off as?

The final groups of students began filing in, including Malfoy and Cedric. Cedric sat across from me, and I watched as Malfoy sauntered to his typical spot with his group of Slytherin friends. As Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students found their spots, the noise level seemed to evaporate.

Dumbledore began to speak, silencing the remaining conversations. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.”

I eyed Snape with dissatisfaction. I needed a plan on what I was going to do about that _whole_ situation, preferably soon.

Maggie leaned in next to me, branching off Dumbledore’s well-wishes for our guests. “Alexander’s stay will be comfortable, at least. You should stay with Ced tonight.”

I flashed a look toward Cedric, who nodded once. “You’re always welcome with me,” he confirmed. As I watched Cedric, I caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy standing up, nodding once discreetly toward the corridor.

I smiled to cover up any strange expressions that may have risen. “Before they announce the Champions, I’m going to run to the restroom,” I told Maggie, standing to make a run for it. What the hell did he want?

The corridor was dark. As I turned to the left to find Malfoy, I was met with a harsh tone. He was leaned against the wall, wagging his ringed index finger to motion me over to him. His hair was messy, as though he had showered just before coming here and didn’t bother to dry his hair. He had his hands shoved in his pockets now, grey eyes wide.

He was a masterpiece. I would never say those words out loud. Over my dead body.

His voice was low, I needed to step closer to hear him; leaving us about a foot apart. If I leaned in a bit, I’d be able to feel his breath on my face… “We have about… twenty five seconds before suspicion arises, so I’m going to be blunt. I want you to say nothing and simply nod or shake your head if you understand what I am saying.” He was leaning down to speak to me, eyes falling to the yellow jumper I had on over my button-up. He took a deep breath and then crinkled his nose, taking half a step backwards before posing his question.

He stepped back to his original spot, leaning in further this time. Our foreheads could’ve touched—once again, if I also leaned in a bit. Every fibre of my being was telling me to step back away from him. “Are your eyes open?” He asked.

I froze, immediately understanding what he was asking. How did he know _anything_ about that? I didn’t trust him any further than I could throw him, which wasn’t very far. I put one foot behind me, prepared to turn and leave him there alone in the darkness.

“Don’t,” he growled. “I need an answer, Blake,” he said, impatient this time.

On impulse, I shook my head, the pit in my stomach immediately tightening, making me feel as though lying to him were a mistake.

He sighed, leaning his head back as he stepped to the left. “ _Damn it_ , Rowan.” The use of my first name took me back, I hadn’t once heard it pass his lips before, not even in the good days.

And then he was gone, hands still shoved in his pocket as he side stepped past me, making his way back toward the Great Hall. Panic bubbled in my chest, the pit in my stomach rising. His scent lingered in the air—a familiar cologne and minty mixture.

 _Damn it, Rowan._ Damn it.


	6. Afraid

When I took my seat across from Cedric, desserts were beginning to flow. I didn’t bother scooping any onto my plate, afraid of the repercussions of feeding my anxiety. Instead, I decided to simply watch Cedric. Soak in his mannerisms, try to catch up for the last year of mental absence. I wondered how he could deal with Autopilot Rowan—if she was so robotic. So… Maggie-esque. He noticed the differences in my own mannerisms, there was no way he hadn’t noticed. I folded my hands into my lap.

Cedric was, by all conventional definitions, beautiful. He had a symmetrical, soft face. His resting face was one of neutrality, one that he could contain. If you blinked at the wrong second, you may miss the fear evaporating from his pores at the current moment. The way that he blinked his own grey eyes was indicative of his own anxiety. His slate-colored irises were almost hidden by the deepening shadows of the evening as the lights fell in the Great Hall.

The storm was coming in. I just had no idea yet. Everything was there, every sign, every warning.

His eyes flickered to me, and he smiled, his top lip disappearing as his teeth peaked out. “It’s going to be just fine,” he mouthed as though I were the one who needed to be calm. I wasn’t sure how to respond, so instead, I lifted my hand and reached across the table. His own hand met mine, warming my chilled fingers, giving one light squeeze before he turned to face the front of the Hall. Silence fell slowly. Cedric didn’t lift his hand.

“The moment has come!” Dumbledore announced, just loud enough for everyone to hear. I tuned out of his speech that was sure to be lengthy introductions and procedural information. I replayed my interaction with Malfoy over in my head, noting the intensity in his glares this time around. He was typically a healthy mixture of pessimistic, anger, and playfulness. This time, it was hard to decipher him.

He had been baring his icy eyes into mine without breaking contact when I shook my head. Effectively _lying_ to him. From there on, deciphering him wasn’t necessary. His disappointment was insurmountable—I feared anyone who missed that might surely be blind. His head fell back as he rolled his shoulders back, not bothering to remove his hands from his pockets.

When his eyes hit the ceiling, I could see the chiseled line of his jaw in the shadows as it locked. He was tense. _I_ was tense as well, feeling lightheaded as I unlocked my knees.

These were details I should’ve never noted.

Students began to clap, and I followed suit, trying my best to keep my eyes away from the Slytherin table. Under my jumper, I shivered once as I flashed my eyes to Batemius Crouch, who Cedric seemed to recognize.

Filch carted a casket from the back of the Hall toward Dumbledore. I certainly wouldn’t have trusted Filch with such an antique, _expensive_ looking object. Not-so-carefully, he placed the casket in front of Dumbledore before backing away.

I could’ve heard a pin drop. It seemed the perfect opportunity to flash my eyes to Malfoy. No matter what happened, no noise was allowed to escape my lips. No exasperated sigh, no questioning groan. Nothing. Without moving my head, I quickly swept my eyes past Cedric to the other grey-eyed boy, who was paying me no attention. I wasn’t surprised, but a bit disappointed. He seemed so concerned about the situation when were standing in the corridor; just for him to pretend it never happened.

Dumbledore broke the silence to explain the rules. Three champions, one true Triwizard Champion decided by the Goblet after three life threatening tasks. Totally normal. Dumbledore drew his wand, wordlessly tapping the casket. As he did, he lifted out a wooden cup, which looked, if I’m being honest, incredibly bland. I had looked away so quickly in discredit that I was confused when the Hall became tinted in blue.

I turned my head once more to find the Cup erupted in blue flame. I pursed my lips. Alright, that was pretty cool. I smirked and turned my vision to Cedric, whose eyes stayed steady on the Cup—much like every student at Hogwarts.

Except one. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Malfoy’s head turned ever so slightly toward us. I pretended to not notice.

 _“Holy shit,”_ I heard in a tiny whisper from Maggie. I allowed the other half of my mouth to turn into a whole smile, teeth and all.

“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champions must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it in the goblet.” I had no doubt in my mind that Cedric would submit his name, but he had the entirety of Hogwarts to hash it out with to be the Hogwarts champion. There wasn’t honestly much to be worried about. “Aspiring champions have 24 hours to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools.”

I flashed my eyes to Malfoy. Would be submit his name? Harry Potter, of course, would. Why wouldn’t he? If he did, I had no doubt that Draco would submit his name out of spite.

“To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation,” was all I heard before my stomach dropped again. That eliminated Harry Potter and Malfoy. It eliminated everybody under seventeen. Suddenly, Cedric’s chances of being chosen weren’t so slim. “I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, which was raw. I tasted blood as Dumbledore explained that submitting a name was a binding contract. There was no changing your mind if you were picked. Whispers erupted from the Hall as Dumbledore spoke, some Gryffindors groaning loudly as their hopes and dreams of risking it all for some game were crushed.

As some students began to file out of the Great Hall, I stayed still.

“I’ll catch you later,” Maggie said in a distracted tone. “Lets see if I can convince Alexander to abandon ship for tonight.”

“Good luck,” I replied in monotone. I could feel Cedric’s eyes on me as he stood.

“Rowan, you’re scaring m—”

I said the words before I could rethink it. “Don’t put your name in.”

He tilted his head. “What? That has been the plan since the Triwizard Cup was announced. I have to, Row.”

I stood as well, shaking my head. “No,” I insisted. “You don’t. Did you miss the whole life-threatening thing?”

“Nothing’s going to happen. Dumbledore wouldn’t let anyone die.”

“There’s nothing bloody Dumbledore can do if you get hurt or—” I lowered my voice, realizing I was speaking louder than intended. “Or killed.”

Cedric’s eyes were pleading as we began to walk on opposite ends of the table, preparing to meet in the middle to exit the Hall. “Lets talk about it in the morning.”

I sighed angrily, feeling as though fire may erupt through my veins if he didn’t listen. “Fuck’s sake. I’m telling you something’s wrong here. Steer clear. _Please._ ”

As we met to exit the Hall, he laid his hand on my shoulder. “Please calm down, it’ll be alright.”

Childishly, I shrugged away. “Don’t touch me. Just don’t. Just remember, I warned you.”

“You’re hurt because you’re arguing with Orin,” he said as though it were a well-known fact.

I stared at him, mouth open. If he were Draco Malfoy, I would have asked _“So what?”_ But he was Cedric. Sweet, caring, _concerned_ Cedric. Cedric who deserved someone to have his back. At this exact moment, his concern was crushing me. “I’m sorry. Let’s just go back to yours if you’ll still have me. I’m really just tired.”

He eyed me cautiously. “Of course.”

The sinking feeling in my chest should have been a red flag. I should’ve seen what would become. I, however, pushed that feeling far away as I glanced backwards to the Slytherin table one final time for the night, finding it empty.

*

“I’m going to take a shower,” he informed me, eliminating my idea of crawling into bed and immediately falling asleep to avoid further conflict. I wasn’t sure how our sleepovers went, but I wanted to keep things strictly PG. In order for him to shower, he needed the full use of his bathroom. Which didn’t have a door; just an empty doorframe from his bedroom into his bathroom. Naked. Seeing him without clothes wouldn’t be very PG.

“Alright,” I replied, settling onto the compact sofa in his personal common room. “I’ll be right here.” I unclasped my robe, tossing it next to me after drawing my wand from the interior pocket. I placed my wand on the small coffee table, smiling his way.

He smiled and then disappeared behind his bedroom door. I laid back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling sleepily. I hadn’t gotten the amount of sleep I craved the night before, laying in my new bed in my new dorm inhaling the overly sweet aromas that seemed to sum up Hufflepuff reminding me that I was not where I belonged.

Cedric’s Prefect suite seemed to be a neutral scent, although admittedly, I might already be noseblind to his scent. I wished it were half as appealing as… I yawned, shoving the unfinished thought from my brain.

My eyes felt heavy as I heard the begin to run. I sighed deeply, thinking of better days. Days when my biggest worries were the stifling heat and stickiness of summer. I curled onto my right side and nestled my head against the sofa before I fell into blackness.

*

I awoke alone in Cedric’s bed, still clothed in yesterday’s scratchy jumper and skirt; although at some point, I must’ve taken off my shoes. The duvet was wrapped around me in a cocoon, making me seem dead to this world. I stretched, flipping the duvet away from my body. I blinked my eyes shut and open a couple more times to clear my vision of any remaining sleep. I smoothed my skirt so that I wouldn’t accidentally flash anything that wasn’t supposed to be flashed. I chose to believe that Cedric and I hadn’t gone _that_ far yet.

“Ced?” I murmured, eyeing the bathroom. The light was off. I let myself fall backwards into my original spot, staring at the ceiling. The bed was large enough for two people to lay comfortably without touching—but I had the feeling that the other side of the bed hadn’t been slept in at all. The other side of the bed’s covers were still tucked underneath pillows which had plain white cases over them.

I could hear his bare feet padding toward the bedroom. “Good morning.” His voice was gruff, which worried me that I had accidentally awoken him.

I pushed myself back into a sitting position, meeting a version of Cedric that wasn’t completely perfect. He leaned against the doorframe, clothed in a yellow tank top and striped pajama bottoms. His hair was messy, though it looked as though he’d tried to smooth it before entering my line of sight. “You crashed last night before you could make it to bed. I hope you don’t mind that I moved you.”

Now that he had mentioned it, I did have a distant memory of him walking into the Prefect common space last night, still running a towel through his hair as his eyes met mine. I had grunted and mumbled some intelligible plea to stay where I was on grounds of being comfortable.

 _“I doubt you’re very comfortable there, sweetheart,”_ he’d protested before crouching in front of me, pressing a quick kiss to my head. _“Let’s go.”_

“You didn’t have to take that shabby couch,” I tried. “I would’ve been happy as a clam there.”

“Happy as a clam?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” I replied confidently.

He smiled, shaking his head. “I’ll be sure to note that for next time.”

It didn’t sound very couple-like, but the best thing I could conjure was: “Thanks for letting me crash with you.”

He seemed to detect the awkwardness hanging in the air at the moment. “Anytime. Are you heading back to yours to shower and get ready? We can meet at the Great Hall before some Halloween festivities. I believe they’re letting us go to Hogsmeade for a bit today before they announce champions.” I could tell he was dancing around the Triwizard subject.

“I think so. Maggie can’t withhold all the details about _Alexander_ from me forever.” I said Alexander’s name with a dreamy tone, mimicking that of Maggie’s last night. I crawled across the bed, swinging my legs over the other side to sit next to him. “I want you to know that if you put your name in, I’m on your side, Ced. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

He ruffled my hair, fingers tangling toward the top of my scalp. He tilted my head back, my eyes meeting his slate-colored irises. “I appreciate that, I really do.” He kissed my chin before releasing me, standing up. “I can walk you out. You, sweet girl, need a hairbrush.”

I scoffed and laughed, grabbing his hand and whirling him back around to face me. He turned, surprised by my touch. It wasn’t a bad surprise, but one of muted relief. I could only tell from one slightly upturned corner of his lips. “And _you,_ Mr. Diggory, need a toothbrush.”

*

I tried my best to slip through the Hufflepuff Common Room unnoticed. Unfortunately for me, Orin was an early riser.

“If you’re going to break school rules, could it be with someone other than Ced who literally can’t get in trouble?” He asked impatiently, eyeing the stairs which led to Prefect rooms. His hair was pulled back into his usual low, messy bun. His tie was undone and he was seated at one of the sofas in front of the fire, seemingly sunken into it. He looked _exhausted._

I swallowed. “Orin, I wanted to say…”

“Hayley and Laura were down here all night. You know what they’re calling you? ‘Discount Maggie’.” He never looked away from the fire. “Hayley cried quite a bit. Said Maggie won’t stop calling her a slut. There was nothing I could say to consul her.”

“I deserve that, I suppose,” I murmured, rounding the side of the couch before dropping myself on it backwards, next to my brother.

He looked taken back, raising his brows. “You? Admitting your faults? I’m dreaming.”

I nodded, massaging my temples. “Yeah, you’d be surprised. Laura and Hayley don’t deserve that.” I let out a deep breath of air. “I’m sorry, I know it’s shitty.”

“My twin senses are tingling. What’s wrong?” He asked. I shot a glance toward him, considering giving up the act and telling him what had been happening. If there was anyone who deserved to know, it was my brother. He was loyal; trustworthy. He would come at this with a helpful, clear mind.

I’d be damned if _Draco Malfoy_ were the first one I spilled my guts to.

Those chances were ruined as I heard a group of footsteps approaching from outside.

I glanced at the coffee table. Orin’s wand laid flat, between his books. His wand was far more aesthetically pleasing than most, coming in at a total of 11 and a half inches of applewood beauty. The handle was rounded, spiraling down to the end of the wand. I remembered the days wand chose him so clearly. It was before we were Sorted, before we knew anything that was to come. Mr. Ollivander had marveled at Orin’s wand, marveling at the rarity of his wood. I prided myself on my insistence to use Mum’s old wand—I wanted to keep it in the family. Ash wood, and I had guessed it was around nine inches long. It was typically colored, a mid-range brown, neatly produced. Mr. Ollivander warned against it, but it had always worked perfectly fine for me.

“I don’t deserve you, y’know,” I said simply.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. Brother trumps my annoyance toward you. Are you okay?”

I stood, heading toward the stairwell to the girls’ dormitories. “No,” I decided out loud before the footsteps reached us. I turned to meet his gaze. “I suppose not.”

*

**YEEHAW. How are you guys feeling? I'm excited about where this is going. As soon as winter break hits, I'm going to spend all of my time making sure this stays updated. Nobody panic.**


	7. Acid Rain

The sky was dark; the clouds looking rather heavy. It was a classic Halloween day, the way I saw it. The leaves were crisp under our steps, an array of orange, purple, and yellow. The wind had kicked up halfway through our walk, causing me to yank my hood up over my head in a desperate attempt to keep the chill in the air at bay.

The shops had carved pumpkins sitting outside, some floating and swaying in the wind. Cho Chang had tagged along with us, talking with Cedric about their adjusted tutoring schedule. I trailed behind, only half-listening as the sky opened into a slight sprinkle. I held my hand out in front of me, feeling the tiny drops as they fell.

Cedric held the Three Broomsticks door open for me and Cho, following as we found ourselves a table as she informed us Marietta Edgecombe may stop in later.

I had never gotten the chance in recent memory to frequent Hogsmeade; it was only allowed beginning in third year, of which I had no memory. So, how come I could see Draco Malfoy, Daphne, Theodore Nott, and myself nestled in the table in the corner? Daphne had cream on the corner of her mouth, and Theo had reached up to wipe it away. I made a gagging motion as Draco shook his head. In this scene, it was dark outside, the lights from the interior bringing a warm glow to our faces.

I blinked once, but by the time I opened my eyes the scene was gone. I could’ve been fooled into thinking the scene were real—I could almost hear the four of us laughing together clearly.

We’d looked happy—as happy as Draco Malfoy can get, which included a slight smirk.

“Rowan?” I snapped my head to Cedric, who had a curious look in his eye. “Why are you staring at Draco Malfoy? Also, answer my question. Cider or Butterbeer?”

I shook my head. “I zoned out. I didn’t know they were over there. Sorry. Cider would be perfect.”

I refocused my eyes to the corner in the table, now consisting of Pansy, Daphne, Theo, and Draco. I’d been replaced by Pansy Parkinson. There was no longer a warm glow; only harsh, cold reality. Pansy leaned her head on Draco’s shoulder and he stiffened.

“I’m going to run back to Tomes and Scrolls,” I announced as Hannah Abbott and Maggie pulled up chairs. “I’m going to be right back, I forgot to buy my ink refills. Ten minutes.”

I didn’t belong on this end of things. I belonged in that dimly lit corner with my people.

Cedric eyed me. “Do you want me to come with?”

“No!” I said a bit too desperately. “No, I’ll be right back, I promise.” I leaned in for a kiss, hoping it was convincing enough. Ced went in for more than a peck, however. His lips moved gently against mine, parting slightly before he pulled away as Hannah cleared her throat.

I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Alright, I’ll be back.”

When I was past the door and felt the cool air against my face, I felt like a new person. The slight sprinkle had ceased for the moment, leaving the wind to deal with. I sighed deeply and headed back toward the bookshop, kicking myself for not picking something cheaper to restock on.

*

I ducked behind a bookshelf on the upper level as the door opened. I’d taken about nine of my ten minutes and hadn’t bothered to buy the ink yet. I wouldn’t put it past Cedric to come looking if I took too long.

I had decided to also look for a book revolving around visionary and auditory hallucinations to try and find at least partial answers to what was happening to me. I let myself slide down the bookshelf into a sitting position, bringing my knees to my chest as I waited to decide if Ced had come looking. There was a small

Light footsteps trailed up the steps, reaching the upper level—which was small enough to where it wouldn’t take long to be found out. I leaned my head back against the shelf, ready to admit defeat.

“I was coming back, Ced,” I began, startled when the grey eyes that I met weren’t slate-colored. They were instead icy. I groaned. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“What’re you doing on the floor?” He asked, looking disgusted as he looked down on me.

I shrugged, reaching for options. “You never get tired?” I winced, knowing how stupid it sounded immediately.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning against a nearby table. He wore a black jumper with simple gold woven accents on the collar. _“In the middle of a bookshop?”_

“Yes. Erm, no. Yes, definitely.” He blinked a couple of times, waiting for more. “Listen, what do you want? I’ve got to get back. Where’s your girlfriend?”

“Not very kind,” he noted, ignoring my question. “Your boyfriend is perfectly happy, he’s being entertained quite well by the other girls. Quite keen on that Chang girl, he is.” He looked quite amused with himself.

I squeezed my temple and balanced my elbows on my knees, letting my arms stretch in front of me. He watched my movements carefully before moving his eyes back to mine. I slipped my bottom lip between my teeth before releasing it. “You’re stressful.”

He scoffed. _“I’m stressful?”_

I blew out all my air, feeling tinges of frustration creep up on me. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

“I came to pick up extra temporary books for some of the Durmstrang boys. The books aren’t in yet.”

I dusted myself off as I stood, squeezing past him, ignoring the lingering of his cologne in the air between us. “Surprised they still tolerate you.”

“Surprised your boyf—”

Before he could finish his sentence, I had my wand drawn, pointed straight at him. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

“You need to learn to control yourself and your wand-waving, Blake,” he spat as he stepped closer, smacking my wand away in one smooth movement of his hand. When I backed up, my lower back touched the edge of the railing of the steps. He leaned down and in, as though to whisper in my ear. I blinked quickly, refusing to look his direction as I averted my eyes to the right of his head, staring past him. I imagined lifting my hands to his torso and pushing him away, but feared what that may bring to the surface. The bookshop was deserted, no one was here to notice any fuck-ups I might make.

“You’re getting sloppy. Really, _Snape_?” He asked with a chuckle before backing away and heading down the steps. He turned halfway down, and cocked his head. “Also, tell your _boyfriend_ he needs better smelling essence. Vanilla doesn’t suit you.”

“And what _does_ suit me? Maybe if you stayed in your own bubble this wouldn’t be a problem!” I yelled after him, only met with a coy glance as he pushed the door open, leaving me on my own. “You’re infuriating!” I exclaimed, too late.

I sucked in a deep breath, gathering myself to collect the ink and pay so I could leave this interaction behind me, as well.

*

By the time I returned to Three Broomsticks, the cider was no longer warm. That was alright, the swirl of sweet apple and cinnamon was what I convinced myself I had needed. I had reasoned with myself to no longer egg on Malfoy; refusing to let my eyes roam to him even for one, fleeting moment.

I became a spectator of a conversation that I personally felt I had no right to be involved in. Cho and Hannah were involved in listening to Ced talk about his plans for Quidditch this coming weekend when Hufflepuff played Ravenclaw. I didn’t know much about Quidditch, honestly. I’d never stepped foot on the field aside from making an attempt to learn from Madame Hooch during first year. After that, I’d never been brave enough to even think about flying on a broomstick again. I’d fallen off the broomstick from about four feet in the air, a tiny blow to my skinned knees and a busted lip was nothing compared the the busted ego I’d experienced afterward.

“I’m not sure we can take Gryffindor this year, honestly,” Cedric admitted in a hushed tone as though anyone else in the Three Broomsticks would care. “Angelina is _extremely_ competitive. Makes me miss Oliver Wood.”

Cho placed her head on her palm, blinking slowly at Cedric. It was like I wasn’t even there—her actions were blatant and calculated. “I think you guys will do just fine for yourselves. As long as you let us win on Saturday,” she added with a wink.

I inhaled the cider’s enticing scent as I tipped the mug up to take another sip. I shifted my eyes to Ced, who seemed to be oblivious to her advances. However, I feared he added fuel to Cho’s fire when he replied with a coy, “In your dreams.”

Cho would’ve been good for Cedric, honestly. I tried to convince myself that she was right for him, ignoring the pull in my stomach which protested her flirty grin. I set the mug back down, almost regretting coming back. I could’ve feigned illness, hid in my room for the rest of the night. Maggie was quite preoccupied with making the Durmstrang student, Alexander, comfortable. I hadn’t seen her since the Great Hall last night.

In my peripheral, I could feel Malfoy’s eyes lingering in our direction. I kept mine on Cedric as I heard his words in my head once more. _Quite keen on that Chang girl, he is._

I crossed my legs, picking at a small hole forming on the top of my thigh in the dark wash jeans I’d chosen for our outing. I’d need to change back into my uniform before tonight, but it I was relieved to evade the yellow tie for at least a few hours.

The sound of my name brought me out of my thoughts. “Rowan, you may want to head back before Marietta comes.”

I raised my eyebrows in Cho’s direction. “Sorry. Why is that?”

Cho looked between Hannah, Ced, and I before she turned her eyes to her mug. “She’s still quite upset with you. You know, for calling her uptight.”

I racked my brain for answers. I couldn’t remember interacting with Marietta Edgecombe, let alone remember what she looked like. As I thought about it, rain started pounding down on the roof. “Alright,” I started, not wanting to start any conflicts with this Marietta. “Ced?”

He looked away awkwardly, frowning before he turned back to me. “Actually, sweetheart, we haven’t done any of Cho’s tutoring yet.”

I parted my lips to say something else, but a voice behind me cut me off. “I thought we weren’t inviting _her_ anymore. You’re in my spot.”

Marietta Edgecombe had defined strawberry blonde curls that she didn’t bother to style. Her hair stuck up in certain spots with flyaways blowing in the wind. I imagined her hair might be weighed down a but by being wetted by the rain. She still wore a Ravenclaw tie under her cloak, seemingly not dressing down for the week-end.

“I was just leaving, actually,” I replied as I stood to sling my bag over my shoulder, making an attempt to kill her with kindness. I smiled. “I have some studying to finish off. You can have your spot. I’ll see you tonight, Ced.” I didn’t bother to give him a goodbye kiss, wanting to evade the situation. He’d reached for my hand, but I brushed past, only to be bumped by Marietta’s shoulder. I staggered to the side, unsure of what I did beyond calling her uptight. I might’ve had this coming. Cedric shot me an apologetic glance.

Marietta wasted no time sitting in my spot, pushing my mug to the middle of the table. “…Probably belongs in chemical waste,” was all I heard before I ducked into the rain.

*

The rain was unrelenting, to say the least. It pounded sideways, soaking me through my clothes and shoes in about twenty-five seconds flat. With each step, a wet chill seeped between my toes. I shivered as I pulled my navy jacket closer to my body, conserving what bit of warmth I could. I had settled on my favorite dark grey jumper with a white button up underneath for the day, which I had hoped would be warm enough for the almost-November weather.

I hadn’t expected the rain, though.

I peeked through my lashes every few seconds to ensure that I wasn’t walking into a wall or about to trip over anything, but keeping my head up was impossible because of the direction of the rain in comparison to the direction I was walking. It was when the door to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop opened that I collided with another body.

“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry,” I said, backing away quickly before realizing I would notice the grey, squeaky rain boots anywhere.

They belonged to Daphne Greengrass.

“You could watch where you’re going,” she offered, about to turn and continue before she turned around. “Sorry, I had a bad date. Are you alright?”

My heart swelled at her voice. I missed her dearly.

“I’m a-alright. I also had a bad date, I suppose!” I yelled over the rain, teeth chattering a small bit.

“Oh, no,” She said seriously. “I’m on my way to grab some lunch in the Great Hall if you want to come along and we can talk about men who are lacking.”

I smiled. “Yes please.”

*

As soon as we crossed the threshold of the Wooden Bridge, we sighed in relief to be out of the rain. I flipped my hair back out of my eyes, flexing my hand afterward to get the blood flowing once again.

“Theodore Nott,” Daphne announced as we walked across. “Theodore _fucking_ Nott.”

 _Theodore Nott?_ I wouldn’t have guessed that one. I wouldn’t have guessed Daphne to be fooled by any of the boys at Hogwarts, honestly. She was always lightning focused, always comparing Theodore to a “string bean”.

“He asked me out last week. I said no at first, but Pansy Parkinson told me to stop being prude. I changed my answer. I’ve known the boy for four years. Always been good friends, y’know? The little bugger tried to put his hand on my thigh twenty minutes in.”

“Not the hand-on-thigh action,” I groaned, feeling right at home with her. “He could’ve at least tried the knee first.”

She threw her head back, gesturing to the sky. “Right! Thank you. Like see how that goes first, asshole,” She dropped her head into her hands. “Is it so bad that I’m focused on my studies?”

We had stopped, now looking out into the water on the side of the bridge, watching the rain.

“Not at all. Don’t let Pansy _fucking_ Parkinson tell you what to do.”

Daphne shook her head, her words hollow as she spoke. “Not all of us have clones like you do with Maggie King. Pansy’s all I have in the girl department. I’m not about to befriend Millicent.”

I scoffed. “Maggie is _not_ my clone. I don’t even know her middle name,” I admitted. “I feel like I’ve never known her.” I wanted to laugh at her reference to Millicent Bulstrode, who I’d never had any liking for.

“Bad dates, bad friends,” Daphne sighed dramatically. “It’s obvious you need me. This is the arc where we form the unlikely friendship,” she finished in a confident tone. Daphne was wearing a grey jumper as well, covered mostly by her green striped scarf and her black peacoat. Her blonde hair was curled slightly now thanks to the rain, a change from her typically pin-straight style.

“I definitely do,” I admitted, unbelievably relieved to be able to talk to her. To get her back. “I promise to not call you a prude,” I added as we erupted into laughs together.

“What happened on your date?” She asked. “Mr. Perfect Sixth Year not measuring up?”

I frowned. “Definitely not. A girl named Marietta Edgecombe and Cho Chang are monopolosing him. Which would be fine, except he’s so yielding to them.”

 _“Yikes.”_ Daphne seemed to stop to think about the situation. “I’ve never met Marianne personally. Ravenclaw, right?”

I nodded. “Ravenclaw,” I confirmed. “Said she thought they’d agreed they wouldn’t invite me anymore. Ced can have friends outside of me, but it rubbed me the wrong way. Like he’d joined in on their criticisms.”

“My advice? Dump him. If he gets picked, this problem’s gonna get worse. Cedric’s nice, don’t get me wrong. I’ve never trusted him though.”

I laughed once. “Why not?”

She scrunched her nose. “I dunno. He seems fake-nice. I don’t make a habit of befriending Hufflepuffs because I’d rather have aggressive than passive-aggressive, you know? You seem pretty sharp-edged for one of them, so you’re safe.”

_It’s because I’m a Slytherin like you._

Daphne’s hand flew to her stomach. “I’m going to head to the Great Hall. You hungry?”

I “Yes. I’ll meet you there. I’m going to go change.”

“I’ll save you some Cornish pasty.”

I blinked, feeling my hair drip down my back. “How did you know—”

Her smile fell as she brought her hand to her chin in a quizzical expression. “I’m not sure. Maybe I saw you body some at some point. I’ll see you in a few.”

She turned and headed toward the castle, leaving me all alone.

I wrapped my arms around myself, staring at the water below. I was shaking, but wasn’t convinced it was because of the cold any longer. I learned most of my weight against the side of the bridge, keeping my knees from buckling below me. As soon as I was sure I was alone, I let out the breath I had been holding in before letting out a choke of a sob. I hung my head, inhaling as deeply as I could.

I missed Daphne. I had a feeling that somewhere inside me, I’d thought of her in the back of my unconscious everyday since my memories had been altered. Somehow, she remembered small details about me, too. I missed the silly Slytherin cliques. I missed also being skeptical of the Hufflepuffs. I missed telling Pansy Parkinson to shut her mouth.

Everything hurt. It hurt that I didn’t know what was happening. It hurt that I couldn’t understand why this would happen. I was already sick of feeling confused, already sick of being scared of making a misstep.

I hadn’t let myself properly cry. I’d cried the first night out of pure terror, but these tears were mournful ones. I mourned the deep relationship I’d formed in Slytherin. I mourned the protective, deeply loyal person I’d been in Slytherin. Now, it seemed I was shallow, lacking morals. I thought of poor Marietta, Laura, and Hayley. They didn’t deserve to be belittled. Old me would have jumped on any chance to hex current me.

I hung my head and let one, quiet sob ripple through my chest. _You get one cry_ , I told myself. _Then we’re done._

I closed my eyes and suddenly felt weightless, understanding what was coming now. My consciousness was gone before I hit the ground.

*

_It was dark._

_Perhaps ‘dark’ was an understatement. It was nearly pitch-black. My head throbbed with a sharp, cracking pain that erupted from the back of my head through to the front. If this wasn’t real, I couldn’t comprehend how I was feeling so much pain at once. If this wasn’t real, my body wouldn’t give up. I wouldn’t black out when my body reached its limit._

_I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out as the scene lightened around me. It was like the flash of a camera, a bolt of lightning. A clap of light, and suddenly I could see. Cedric. His forehead was smudged with dirt, a number of scrapes on his face and neck. His hair was matted with sweat. “Cedric,” I said, though the words came out muddled; high pitched, an echo._

_Every second being here was worst than the last. I could hardly see from my left eye as the pain in my head somehow enhanced. An axe to the head. That’s what I would’ve believed happened. Someone leveled their wand to him, murmuring words I couldn’t make out before I let out a curdling scream, losing sight of him._

*

I gasped as I opened my eyes, the sharp pain in my head still very real. I brought my hands to my hair, yelping as I closed my eyes once more. “I wouldn’t try to move if I were you,” a calm voice from behind my back informed me. “I think you hit your head.” The voice was even, dead serious.

I reached my hand to my forehead, where a bandage had been stuck above my right temple. I winced with the pain that bloomed outward from the area with the touch. I whirled my head around, far too quickly, met with the stormy glare of Malfoy.

“Or just disregard everything I say. That’s fine, too.”

“Malfoy? What’s happened? How did I get here?” I asked, gauging my surroundings as the medical wing. He was standing at the head of my bed, hands in his pockets.

“I don’t know. Figure you were clumsy again and managed to find the one loose board on the bridge to slice your head open on. Lucky I came along.”

I swung my legs over the bed, standing despite the residual lightheadedness that caused me to steady myself. My head throbbed lightly, nothing too painful that couldn’t be lived through. “That only answered one of my questions.”

He pulled his lips into a thin line, raising his eyebrows. “You’re not _that_ heavy, Blake. Don’t get excited.”

“I didn’t think I was heavy,” I snapped. “I’m quite alright, so I’m going to go. I have someone expecting me.”

I turned, shoving the curtain to the side.

The short, snippet of a vision that I had witnessed was… troubling, to say the least. I wondered anxiously where Cedric could be right now, unable to suppose the time of day. If I had to guess, I’d been out maybe an hour. The sun still shone into the paned windows, which brought me at least some comfort. My stomach growled, bringing me back to reality.

I could feel Malfoy’s footsteps behind me, following closely. “So, what, no thank you?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Thanks,” I said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not very patient, either, I’ll add that to your list.”

I stopped abruptly, taking a long drawl of breath before turning around and grabbing a fistful of his robe, shoving him back against the stone wall. His eyes flew wide, surprised. Good. I was tired of his squirrelly expressions. “Tell me what you know,” I demanded, trying to channel as much venom behind my words as possible. I released his robe, stepping back. “And cut the gaslighting.”

The cracking pain in my head seemed to spread down my neck and into my shoulders. It was an sharp, electric pain.

“Gaslighting?” He asked, confused by the Muggle term as he snickered. “I’ve never seen your brain work so hard, Blake.”

I leaned in closer, bringing my voice into a hushed tone. “I remember each and every detail of the Slytherin Common Room. The last password I remember was _Marvolo Gaunt._ I remember the butternut squash. I remember going to bed as me and waking up here. Now, look at my uniform you tell me how that is.” I resisted adding that I remembered our blooming friendship, afraid of pushing the matter too far.

Draco’s eyes were serious. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, freak,” he said flatly, with each word his eyes shifted to sharp daggers. “If I were you, I’d listen for once in my life and take advice when it’s given. I don’t want to hear your ramblings. Stay away from me, Blake. You’re messed up.”

He slipped past me, tilting his head as he studied my reaction. He turned and with long strides, turned down the corridor that led to the stairwells.

Panic bubbled in my throat. I’d just spilled _everything_ to him. “Draco—”

He turned around, his mouth twitching as he balled his left hand into a fist as he stomped back over to me, craning his neck to look into my eyes, as though I were too deaf to hear him any other way. “You don’t get to call me that,” he spat, his words strangled by rage. “Stay. Away. We are not friends. We have never been anything of the sort. I think your existence is a _fluke_ in the magical gene pool, understand?” He turned again, this time not bothering to look back to witness my nod, confirming I understood. 

*

**I'm on winter break now so yeehaw. I'm alive.**


	8. Speed of Sound

**TW: graphic, blood.**

* * *

I laid on my side, curled up under my quilt. The dorm room was dark, not even lit by moonlight tonight. Maggie and three other girls were fast asleep, giving me a chance to simply exist without monitoring my expressions. Even keeping a poker face was difficult these days.

The past couple of days had been somewhat of a chaotic time. Pomfrey had instructed me to have the four stitches I’d required removed from my forehead yesterday, which I had left my room to do so.

I avoided Maggie where possible, clinging to my newly-reestablished friendship with Daphne. Maggie had been suspicious of this new friendship, but eventually shrugged it off as she became closer with her newfound obsession, Alexander.

I thought about the week that was—thankfully—behind me.

When Dumbledore called Cedric’s name—declaring him the Hogwarts champion—I had frozen in place. Cedric had, as well, but recovered within half a second to stand and bump fists with a number of Hogwarts boys as he stood to meet Dumbledore at the front of the Great Hall.

I felt nauseous even thinking about the strange, grey-haired man from my hallucination leveling his wand toward Cedric’s head. I hadn’t seen Cedric for longer than ten or fifteen minutes at a time since that night; with the challenges that came with the Tournament, he was otherwise occupied.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted a romantic relationship with Cedric, but he was still one of my closest friends. I’d known him since we were children. I knew his parents; sweet Amos, who poured his heart and soul into raising Cedric. Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew he was in danger. I swallowed the lump in my throat, wrapping my arms around myself as I felt a cold chill erupt across my spine.

It was when they called Harry Potter’s name that I truly needed to vomit. Danger followed Harry Potter around like an old friend; never far from him. It wasn’t Potter’s fault, I suppose, he was not a circumstance of his birth. He was only a child who had angered the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world, right? That I could remember. His third year could’ve been peaceful, but I couldn’t remember details surrounding even my own third year.

You could’ve heard a pin drop as Harry turned a shade of green—something I could even see from afar. I scanned across the faces of his friends, but they all had the same, shocked expression painted across their faces.

I locked eyes with Daphne, who had wide eyes, her expression one that I could almost hear in my head. _He’s fucked,_ was definitely something rolling around in her brain at the moment. I had allowed myself one glance at Draco, who had his jaw locked into an ice cold expression of contempt.

Since spilling to Draco Malfoy, I’d felt foolish. It was a confession made in anger, in spite. He knew what was going on, and I hated that.

In my bed, I drew my knees closer to my chest.

I had eaten breakfast with Daphne that morning, which earned my a cold glare from Malfoy all morning, only corked when I went to Potions and sat behind him where I could no longer see his face. His glare was a warning.

It was hard to take his ‘warnings’ seriously when he’d never given me a reason to feel frightened of him.

I’d considered his reasons for carrying me to Pomfrey on Saturday if he thought my existence was a mistake. He typically was careful to stay clear of me on a physical level. He was revolted by my Muggle father, never missing an opportunity to remind me of my blood status. Yet, he hadn’t decided to leave me on the bridge. He’d hauled me up to make sure I didn’t continue to bleed from my head laceration.

When I’d called out to him, it was Third Year Rowan calling out to him, A younger, scared girl.

Every time I’d seen him since in the last week, he’d ignored me. No witty remarks in Potions, no angry glances.

An anxious huff escaped my lips and I covered my eyes with my hands as I burrowed deeper into my covers. I’d _demanded_ to know what he did. As though it were possible that he’d have the answers I needed. Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, who had asked me if I was awake. If I knew who I really was. And I’d said no when he had been willing to listen.

I continued taking survey of the week that was behind me now.

Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor and I had taken our hands at _Herbivicus_ charms, something that Neville had been excited to finally try.

 _“Been waitin’ since third year, I have,”_ he muttered in excitement as he swished his wand. He’d been more successful than I had—his vines had grown an impressive amount, actually. Mine simply shriveled and looked awfully sad.

 _“We’ll work on yours,”_ had been Neville’s decision as he watched my vine curl into an untimely demise.

In Potions, Orin and I had put our heads together to complete a Calming Draught. I had stashed some of Snape’s lavender in my bag, vowing that I’d use it for good. If I couldn’t have Calming Draught, the next best thing was lavender oil to administer under my nose prior to bed.

Orin had been more careful with me this week. He’d suspected something was off, but didn’t try to bring it up again. Not yet. He’d assured me that if I needed anything, he would be happy to listen. That was all I needed—and he knew that.

I’d listened in on Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger’s conversation about Kneazles during Care of Magical Creatures. They’d been bickering about Hermione’s cat, who Ron accused of causing generalized chaos. Hermione had rolled her eyes and urged them each to pay attention. I noted that if I wanted to discuss any concerns, I would likely need to contact Hermione Granger first. Harry and Ron seemed impulsive, and I frowned to think about how much Harry had on his plate.

And worst of all, Divination this week had been a nightmare. I still had to sit across from Draco, who now focused his efforts on bullying Orin. He’d throw shreds of parchment to see how many he could land in Orin’s messy bun. When I tried to stop him, it was like I didn’t exist.

 _“You have to stop harassing Orin,”_ I’d half-whispered to him while Trelawney discussed personal birth charts and the precise calculations that went behind them.

His jaw locked as his smile faded from his face as his expression darkened, but he’d kept his eyes on the front of the class. By the end of class, Orin had one more scrap stuck in his hair.

My eyes began to feel heavy as I wrapped up the memorable pieces of the week. I’d began writing down everything important in a journal, which I kept hidden wedged between the headboard of my bed and the wall.

_Draco knows something. Neville Longbottom is swaying my opinion of Gryffindor. Cedric is in danger._

I’d since scratched out _“Draco knows something”_ and angrily scrawled _“First task is in 3 weeks”_ after my point about Cedric. The journal wasn’t a precise science, and I didn’t have the patience to document every little thing that had happened.

I yawned, but each time I closed my eyes, panic bubbled in my chest as my heart picked up, leading to me to snap my eyes back open. It had been this way for about four nights, now, with or without the lavender oil.

I turned onto my back, eliciting various creaks from the mattress below me. I folded my hands neatly across my chest, staring at the ceiling.

*

I groaned. It was far too bright in the room, and I hadn’t gotten nearly enough rest for this. My own fault, I suppose. I wondered if I would ever get used to how absolutely bright the Hufflepuff rooms were.

I didn’t bother to fix my hair, which I had fallen asleep on as it was drying. I pulled it into a bronze plated clip at the back of my head, making a dash to the bathroom in order to brush my teeth and get changed.

*

Daphne placed both of her hands against the other side of the Hufflepuff table, learning against it. “We need to talk.”

I lifted a scoop of cereal to my lips, chewing as I considered what she might need. Daphne had her hair twisted into a braid that rested on her left shoulder. “About?” I asked cautiously.

“Quidditch. What, exactly, are your plans?” She asked in a serious tone.

“Uh,” I hadn’t thought about it. I suppose tonight was the first game of the year. “Stay in? I thought the Quidditch Cup this year was cancelled.”

“Rowan Blake, always the jokester!” She threw her head back, laughing sarcastically. Her expression hardened as she brought her head back to being level. “There’s no cup, but that doesn’t mean that the Houses aren’t still looking for excuses to throw down. No, I veto your plan to stay in. You’re cheering for Slytherin tonight.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You want me to sit in the middle of the Slytherins when my own House’s team is playing next week? And disrespect Hufflepuff like that?” I asked jokingly. My boyfriend is captain.”

She brought her index finger to her chin. “Yes.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Alright, fine. Since you asked nicely.”

She clapped twice in celebration. “Yes! Alright, I think I can swing letting you borrow one of my extra scarves. Hufflepuff can’t be hurt since you’re not _technically_ choosing between your own House and Slytherin.”

If only she knew how much I wished that were true. I swallowed another bite of cereal. “Daphne?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re blocking Ced from sitting.”

She turned around, almost bumping into him. Her eyes blew wide before smiling and stepping around him. “Oop! Sorry.”

She turned back to me, mouthing _“Good luck with that.”_

Cedric sat across from me, sighing in defeat as he stabbed at his eggs. “I look away for a few seconds and you’ve befriended Daphne Greengrass. Her family are blood purists, Row.”

I felt bad for being short with him. I’d spent the last week brainstorming what I could do to save him from getting hurt. He’d become busy with Quidditch, the Tournament, tutoring, and myself very quickly. I didn’t mind being the weaker link in his list of responsibilities. The other things seemed more important. Yet, I was still only netting about three hours of sleep a night, four if I was lucky.

“I understand. Daphne isn’t like them, though.”

Cedric had cleared half of his plate. “Are we planning on going to the Gryffindor and Slytherin game tonight? I promised Marietta I’d take her tutoring hours tonight but I can tell her something came up.”

“No, you go ahead,” I replied, not wanting to disappoint him further by mentioning more about Daphne when he seemed to be holding a grudge already. “Who is on the schedule tonight?”

He set down his fork, tipping one of the goblets to drink some water. His tone was casual. “Hannah Abbott, I believe.”

I cracked a grin, raising my eyebrows playfully. “You believe?”

Things had been… tense between Cedric and I. When he saw the cut on my forehead, things seemed to spiral out of my control. He demanded to know what had happened, and when.

I didn’t bother to explain to him that he’d seen me three times since it had happened before he noticed.

After that, I’d felt a slight disconnect between us. I also didn’t blame him. He was incredibly stressed with the details of the Tournament.

Cedric just smiled, pushing his plate aside. “Excuse me if I don’t keep a clear memory of my tutoring.” It wasn’t a kind or playful remark, but one that was pointed, bordering rude.

I kept my eyes on my bowl. “I’m sorry, Ced.” I paused, considering my next question before I said anything more. “Do you think Harry Potter put his name in the Goblet of Fire?”

Cedric shrugged. “I’m not sure,” He admitted. “At first, I thought there was no way he was telling the truth. But now… I _want_ to believe him.”

I thought about the buttons. The school seemed to have decided that Harry was lying—if you weren’t wearing the _POTTER STINKS!_ buttons, you were in the minority. Most of Slytherin had taken to it as well as Ravenclaw. There were mixed numbers of students in Hufflepuff that took to it, but Maggie had been leading the charge against Harry Potter within the confines of Hufflepuff.

“Cedric? Cedric Diggory?” A small voice called from behind him. He turned, his face lighting up as he met the eyes of a couple of young Ravenclaw girls. “We were just wondering—” giggles erupted between the two of them. “We were just wondering if you’d sign our bags.”

He smiled warmly. “Of course.”

I watched as he carefully signed the girls bags, noticing when they peered around him and to me, studying me. I smiled at them, trying to be encouraging. As if to say hello. The effect seemed to be the opposite, however. They frowned and went back to focusing their attentions to Cedric.

This had become a more common occurrence as Cedric’s popularity somehow boomed even further with the announcement of the Champions. I had considered him fairly popular before this happened, but ever since, the times in which he was alone diminished to practically zero. In the corridors, he was always surrounded by a group that was desperate to familiarize themselves with him.

I didn’t mind them as much as his admirers seemed to mind me.

 _You don’t get to have hurt feelings,_ I reminded myself. I didn’t get to feel hurt that other girls were noticing Cedric.

“I’m going to run. Since there’s a game today we have an early slot at the Quidditch field.”

I smiled. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked gently, offering to take his plate.

He obliged, handing it over sheepishly. “Of course.”

As he walked away, I couldn’t help but notice how a small crowd seemed to follow.

*

I’ll be the first to admit that Quidditch isn’t my cup of tea. I’ve never liked the idea of heights and having a thin strip of broom between myself and certain death. I didn’t like the idea of watching fellow students play Quidditch with the unfortunate likelihood that someone would fall and get hurt.

Spending time with my friends had typically been the motivation behind watching the games. When I wasn’t sure that someone was going to fall to their death, I enjoyed watching Marcus Flint and Cassius Warrington consistently experience loss. Slytherin was a team that played significantly worse when they were angry. I would have always thought that Gryffindor would’ve been the hotheads—but in my time at Hogwarts, it was typically Slytherin throwing in dirty plays.

Daphne had, in fact, scrounged up an old scarf for me to wear. I wrapped the scarf around my neck, sighing at the deep satisfaction I’d gained from looking the part of myself once more.

Daphne frowned as I secured the scarf underneath a wool coat. “Yellow isn’t your color.”

I secured the final buttons on the coat, thinking of my very own thoughts regarding the color when I woke up in the ratty yellow sweatpants a week ago. “I’ve been told.”

*

“Alright, you lot. This is Rowan Blake, she’s a Hufflepuff. Be nice to her, she’s risking her neck to be here,” Daphne said with a snort as we shuffled into the Slytherin section. She shot an apologetic glance in my direction. “Margaret King _might_ just kill you this time. She’s been watching you.”

I frowned. Maggie, unfortunately for me, wasn’t stupid. She’d picked up on the changes in our dynamic, on the changes in my own personality, and didn’t try to hide that. When I’d explained to her that I had plans with Daphne Greengrass, she’d threatened me.

_“If you go through with this, Cedric and I are staging an intervention. You’ve been completely distracted this last week.”_

I shoved her words to the back of my mind. “Maggie doesn’t control me. No one does.”

“Could’ve fooled me, half-blood,” Theodore Nott chimed in, standing from the stand he’d been sitting on as the players began to warm up. He turned his attention toward Daphne. “I cannot believe you took in a mangy stray.”

In another life, Theo had been one of the first ones to show me kindness in Slytherin when the others had shunned me. I hardly recognized him now, though. He was much taller now, his legs accounting for a large portion of this height. He still had narrow features which reminded me of a bunny rabbit—which took away from his fear factor. Theo climbed one row behind us, situating himself between Millicent and Blaise.

Daphne smiled and reached over to ruffle the hair at the top of my head. “I couldn’t resist,” she replied to Theo before turning her attention to the Quidditch pitch. “Do you guys think Cassius is okay to be back already?”

I took a moment to process her words before connecting the dots. “Cassius Warrington?”

She sighed. “Cassius Warrington,” she confirmed in a solemn tone, letting her blonde locks fall in front of her eyes. “Don’t even give me the age talk, you and Cedric have no room.”

What I remembered of Cassius wasn’t pleasant. He was unapologetically rude. I did remember his tendency to smile as he wrote out Detentions for any _and_ everyone humanly possible.

“Wait, _you’re_ Diggory’s girlfriend?” Theo asked from behind us, butting back into the conversation.

I turned my head just enough to meet his eyes. I shot a dicey glance at him. “No, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Wait, wait!” Theo held his stomach as he laughed. “Golden Boy’s girlfriend chose us over him?”

I turned around the whole way. “Shove off, Nott, he’s not even here tonight. Keep your humungous nose in your own business.”

I scanned the pitch cautiously. I noted Cassius Warrington’s slower movements, wondering absently what had caused his injury. I shifted to taking survey of the Gryffindor players—surprised that Harry Potter had time to come. I moved back to the Slytherin players, searching for a head of blonde hair.

I’d settled for watching Draco take a couple of practice swings on his broom, zipping cleanly through the air, avoiding a couple of Gryffindor players ever so slightly—one of which, I thought to be either Fred or George Weasley, I couldn’t tell which. Draco chuckled to himself and congregated with his team as he prepared for the game to begin.

His gaze roamed toward our stands, landing on our group. He turned back to his team before visibly double taking back to us.

Nott leaned down from behind us, his face inches from my ear. “He moves quicker than Diggory, doesn’t he?”

Draco’s brows pulled together as he gripped the broom ever so slightly tighter.

I could read his expression. It was one of unfiltered, yet muted anger.

*

Slytherin had been playing lousily.

I wasn’t completely surprised. Cassius seemed to be playing through some sort of shoulder injury, I’d decided. Draco made spiteful plays, and Graham Montague couldn’t reign them in. Gryffindor seemed to be keeping their cool, but only enough to keep themselves slightly above Slytherin’s score.

Blaise had exclaimed that the game was rigged in Gryffindor’s favor a number of times, yelling out when Katie Bell made an illegal hit on Pucey.

If I had been one of them, I might’ve agreed with him and joined him in his outrage.

But I wasn’t.

So I didn’t.

It hit me rather quickly. The overwhelming feeling of home. I was here. I was with my old friends. I was listening to some Gryffindor slander. Wearing a familiar eucalyptus-scented scarf and _laughing._

I took a gulp of the crisp November air as I peered into the Hufflepuff stands, directly across from Slytherin’s.

Poor Laura Frank, who I’d once been reasonably close with, stood alone at the edge of the stands. Each time I tried to talk to her in this new life she’d shrink away from me as if she feared I would bully her.

Maggie stood surrounded by Hufflepuff girls. She looked just as happy as she would if I had been standing over there with her. My eyes roamed around the girls’ faces before I stopped.

Hannah Abbott stood a couple of rows behind Maggie, cheeks red from the cold, her curls windblown. Hannah Abbott, who was supposed to be with Cedric tonight. Or at least, he believed it was her.

I stewed. It was possible that Cedric simply got the schedule incorrect—he hadn’t been completely sure of it in the first place. It wasn’t like Cedric to be disorganized, to not know his schedule.

My eyes were dragged back to the pitch when the Slytherin team groaned in unison. One of the Gryffindor players had slipped one in, almost certainly deciding the game’s outcome.

“There’s always next time, I suppose,” Daphne sighed, shaking her head.

I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, shivering slightly before huddling into myself. I could’ve tried to be optimistic about the situation, but we both knew that would be a reach.

I watched Draco once more, noting once more how clean and calculated his movements were. I would have easily pinned him as the strongest flyer on Slytherin’s team. He made movements that I almost didn’t like to watch because I’d feared he would run into something that would take his head off.

My stomach turned over at the thought of heights and flying on a broomstick.

It was while I was watching Draco that Daphne erupted into shrill, terrified screams. Her hands clamped over her mouth as she sobbed.

My eyes darted all over the pitch, searching for the source of her terror.

My eyes feel on Cassius, who was on the ground, arm bent at a sharp, horrid angle. He was face down in the pitch, with a number of his teammates surrounding him.

In horror, I realized that there was bone jutting from Cassius Warrington’s back. I hoped and prayed it was a piece of his shoulder that was poking through his skin. His own agonized screams rippled through the pitch as a group crowded him in seconds.

Daphne was panicking. “I have to—” she didn’t finish the sentence and instead started to move, ready to rush down the steps to get to him. I quickly met eyes with Blaise, who nodded once. I clamped my arms around her shoulders, holding her back.

“Daph, you have to let them work on him. The healers know what they’re doing.”

She struggled against me. “I’m not leaving! He’s hurt, Rowan. He’s _really_ —”

I tried to keep my voice even. “I know, I know he is, and if that were Ced down there, I would lose my marbles as well. You have to let them concentrate.”

My own head swam in a wave of nausea. _Heights, falling, blunt force._ I met eyes with Blaise once more, pleading.

He shuffled between bodies to stand in front of Daphne. “Don’t be stupid,” he said bluntly, reaching out to cup each side of her face. “Cassius will be fine.”

Daphne’s knees gave out as she glanced back to the pitch, where it seemed as though they’d already lifted Cassius up and away from the field.

*

They’d had to remove the bones in Cassius’ sternum, left shoulder, collarbones, and upper arm. He would be asleep for a while, and the pain of regrowing essentially all of the bones in the upper left side of his body would be excruciating, but the conclusion was that he would, in fact, be alright.

Cassius wasn’t a kind person. I couldn’t understand what Daphne saw in such a cruel man—one who believed deeply in the divisions of potency of magical blood.

I sat just outside the hospital wing with my legs pulled to my chest, chewing nervously on one of the sugar quills that Cedric had gifted me. I swallowed the last bit quietly before rummaging through my bag, wrapping my fingers around my wand.

I’d removed the wool coat I’d been wearing outside, but kept the scarf on. I rested my chin on my knees, reaching my left arm out in front of me and practicing the _Herbivicus_ wand motion carefully while I waited for Daphne to come back out.

It was likely well past eight-thirty by now, Cedric would be done with his tutoring. Yet, here I was.

“The motion is supposed to look like a bloody plant,” a monotone called from across the way. I lifted my head to Draco, who stood in a similar spot as when I’d confronted him earlier this week. His hands were settled into his robe, expression blank. “Three points in the motion. On the lower left and right sides, the points are shorter. The point in the middle is the tallest. An idiotic charm, if you ask me.”

Draco looked more unhappy than usual.

I dropped my hand. _Play dumb. Blend in. Stay hidden._ “Thanks. I didn’t know you were such a good Herbology student.”

Draco seemed to disregard what I had said completely, keeping his eyes forward as he sauntered through the corridor, disappearing into the hospital wing.

*

**Yeehaw, guys!!!!**


	9. Hearing

**Draco**

Rowan had hardly made it out of the classroom before Cedric Diggory's fingers enclosed her wrist. He pulled her to the side of the corridor, nearly out of sight of everybody else. He murmured something inaudible before leaning down to kiss her.

I looked away before his lips touched hers, taking my turn to shove a third year Ravenclaw down the corridor, watching him stumble over his own feet. I used a bit more force than I typically would have, which wasn't a horrible tragedy.

I didn't want to know how she looked when his hands brushed her shoulders, when one hand moved to her brown locks, when his mouth was on hers. Whether or not she would move her lips enthusiastically in unison with his. 

The thought made me feel ill. Fucking romance.

Anyone could have seen that he didn't _see_ her. Not in the way that other twats at Hogwarts seemed to. I'd resisted shoving Longbottom's large, billowing nose into a wall when his eyes roamed a bit too far down her.

Even Longbottom wouldn't have known that her eyes were tired these days. The dark circles under her eyes weren't meant to be there. He wouldn't know about the vivid nightmares that weren't just figments of her imagination. He wouldn't know the way that she likely laid in her bed, on her back, staring at the ceiling until she thankfully drifted off to sleep, far too late for any restful sleep.

I knew because I had been there. I know exactly how this goes.

I wasn't allowed to see it. Father had warned me explicitly against distracted against my studies this year.

He didn't precisely know that my own memory was intact, either. He'd never know.

I returned my eyes to where the outwardly happy couple was. This time, her arms were wrapped around his neck, fingers resting near the hair on the nape of his neck, thumb swirling in circles. A light, comforting touch.

As if he deserved to feel comforted.

Rowan seemed to enjoy putting everyone else back together—even at the expense of her own energy. Her own twin, who so much claimed to love her, would make venomous remarks about her behind her back. I'd heard them firsthand just hours ago. There had been a number of times that I considered sending a hex or two his way. I had reasoned that I could get away with it.

Rowan wouldn't tolerate it. So parchment to the back of the head it was.

Rowan's expression was concerned, eyebrows raised slightly as she stared over his shoulder, straight at us. She looked concerned. 

No one asked for her concern.

I scoffed visibly, curling my lips into an expression of annoyance.

I draped my arms around Pansy's shoulders, steering her in the opposite direction of Rowan Blake. The only person in this bloody school that could've understood.

*

**Rowan**

I reached across the Divinations table, plucking the crumple of parchment from Draco's fingers, sneering at him. I'd warned him to leave Orin alone a number of times—that, paired with my general crabby demeanor these days, didn't allow for him to test me today.

"I'm not going to say it again, leave Orin alone. He did nothing to hurt you."

Draco raised one eyebrow as though he were only responding to me mentally. He didn't try to take the parchment back, but instead ripped off a new strip. "Focus on your personal chart or whatever it is you're going on about, Blake."

"Actually," I said, turning my own parchment toward him, "We're working on your's. According to the Muggle zodiac, you're a Gemini."

Draco obviously hadn't been listening to me, or at least feigned ignorance as he loaded another piece of parchment into his palm. "Ah. Brilliant. Incredibly insightful."

I reached over and motioned to smack his hand as he was about to throw the parchment at Orin. He hardly turned his head before he caught my outstretched hand, his own surprisingly soft fingers easily wrapping around my wrist. His eyes rested on his fingers which had gripped me tightly, restricting any movement. I counted one, two, three, four seconds before he shoved my hand away with force.

Draco's eyes slid dangerously slow across the table, resting on my face as he spoke. " _Don't_ touch me."

I almost forgot to inhale once more. "Then—" Draco cocked his head slightly, waiting for me as his eyes moved to the top of my head, making their way down to my lips, my chin. "Then you need to listen to me so we don't fail. _That_ would be embarrassing."

He turned in toward the table, now sitting directly in front of me instead of facing the front of the class. "Alright then. Tell me about your personal chart."

"Well," I started nervously, not expecting his interest in my own chart. I hadn't even looked into it quite yet, so I wasn't sure how to go about this. I drew a deep, even breath. "I'm a Sagittarius. I'm supposed to be open-hearted and truthful, but lack empathy." I almost winced from the deep irony—my whole life at the moment seemed to be a lie. Truthful was the last thing I felt like.

Draco kept his eyes on me, his expression quizzical as he pulled his brows together. "And me?"

"You're a Gemini. You're supposed to have a natural tendency toward communication and intellectual ability. It says here that you—I mean, Geminis can be impulsive."

He rested his chin on his palm. "Do _you_ think I'm impulsive?"

I leaned in further, instinctively. I considered his wild mood changes in the past couple of weeks before responding. "Yes," I breathed, nodding once, trapped by his gaze.

"You're awfully feisty to be speaking on _my_ impulsivity, aren't you, Princess?"

"Alright children!" Trelawney called, drawing my attention from Draco. "Remember that your charting assignments are due in three weeks!"

I quickly gathered my belongings into my bag, avoiding being caught up by Draco once again. He was gone sooner than I was, anyhow.

Off for his regularly scheduled bullying, I assumed. Asshole.

I hardly made it out of the class before another set of fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me to the side of the halls. This touch didn't burn—not in the way that Draco's did. It was gentle. "Hello," Cedric greeted me before leaning down and placing a kiss on my lips, a gentle, warm kiss. Cedric's lips smelled of black tea. His hands brushed my hips before lifting to my waist. "Are we still on for the library tonight? Just you and I, I promise. I'm sorry again for blowing up last night."

I nodded as I slipped my hands up his chest, behind his neck, hugging him gently. I had no reason to want to upset him further.

It was last night that he accused me of not caring about his Tournament bid. _"I've got so much on my plate, Rowan, and it's like you're not even here!"_ He called after me when I told him goodnight after a short argument. _"You're supposed to be supporting me, and you're not! Of course I'm spending my time with Marietta and Cho! Maggie said you're spending all your free time with Daphne Greengrass, so we're both to blame."_

Cedric never got angry. Last night, he did.

And honestly? I didn't think he was wrong. I was also spread paper-thin, between course work and the nagging in the back of my head that something was off with the Tournament. Daphne made me feel normal, like the fog that existed within my brain at all hours had faded away.

No one was a huge fan of me at the moment. Except her. Maggie and Cedric were upset with me over my sudden personality shifts which I couldn't reign in, while Laura avoided me like the plague. Orin did his best, but... I didn't blame him for avoiding me, either. None of my _true_ friends remembered me.

I felt completely alone except for when I was with Daphne.

That wasn't something I could simply tell Cedric. With the first task only a week and a half away, he couldn't handle anything more.

So, I hugged him back.

However, when I opened my eyes, it was Draco Malfoy who stared at us, his lips pursed, nostrils flared the slightest bit. I kept eye contact with him, as if to attempt to explain myself without saying anything at all.

I closed my eyes again after a few moments, reasoning that I didn't need to explain myself to the likes of Draco Malfoy. When I opened them once more as Cedric pulled away, Draco was gone.

*

I'd picked the same table that I always did—tucked near the back of the library, near a window where I could see the snow. It was early in the year for snow, but I enjoyed watching the fluffy snowflakes build onto the outside windowsill. It felt serene. Quiet.

This was the same table where I'd fantasized about butternut squash alongside Draco, seemingly many lifetimes ago. I balanced my wand as well as my school bag on the chair next to me before taking a moment to survey the library. It was quiet, a Friday night would do that. I relished in the silence, casting my eyes once more to the window.

Tonight would be a good night, I'd decided. I was going to repair things with Cedric the best that I could, at least making an effort to feel normal once more. _I_ was the one who'd changed the game, not him. He didn't deserve to feel confused.

I could hear the sounds of footsteps approaching. I turned my head to the right, toward the aisle, my hopes for a quiet evening quickly sinking when I processed that Cho, Hannah, Hayley, and Marietta were in tow behind Cedric.

I locked eyes with Cedric, shooting silent daggers at him. He'd _promised_ tonight would be just us, like the times before the Tournament began. I sighed angrily to myself before they arrived, not bothering to move my belongings. He could find a new table if he pleased.

"Pull up a chair," Cedric directed toward Cho, who seemed to be ready to sit at the end of the table, which ideally would only fit four people at the very maximum. Only two people would be able to fit their quills, inks, parchments, and books comfortably.

"Actually," I spoke up timidly before she could do so. "I wasn't expecting a group study session. I would have picked a larger table. If you guys would be so kind to find a larger table, I'll be sure to follow you when I am done—"

_Snap._

It was a sharp, pronounced cracking sound that echoed through the aisle as Marietta Edgecombe sat next to me, uninvited, without bothering to move my items. It took three seconds of my eyes darting around the area and then to her before I processed what had happened.

I gasped. My wand. She'd snapped my wand in half. My mother's old wand.

Marietta stood up and winced innocently. "Sorry," she began, shrugging casually. "I guessed you would've been more welcoming as to at least let us sit with you."

I stared at my wand, which had been on top of my bag. It was cleanly snapped in the middle, dust scattered on my bag from where it had been split. She'd no doubt flattened the items in my bag, besides my ink and quill which I'd already pulled out and set on the table prior to their arrival.

"You—" If I'd had a wand, I would have hexed her—I recalled a useful scalping hex. I would've rejoiced to see Marietta lose what she used to cover her unfortunate facial features. Anger pulsated through my very being, exploding from each extremity. I stood up, shoving the wand into my bag as I secured it over my shoulder.

"You _foul_ bitch!" I didn't bother to keep my voice down. At this point it may be extremely helpful to her if I was removed from the library. She backed away three paces as I forgot that anyone may be watching this unfold. I reached out with both hands, shoving her back into a bookshelf by her shoulders. Nevermind that I didn't have the funds to replace the wand, but Marietta had been absolutely horrid to me since the moment she laid eyes on me.

"You figure you can go around breaking things that don't belong to you because what? I upset you _once_?" I asked, seeing red.

Her eyes were wide, seemingly regretting her decision. "You are not going to look at me sideways for the rest of the year," I warned in an icy tone, leaning in now that she was backed against a shelf. "One thing. One more bloody thing to sleight me—and I swear to Merlin that I'll make you _wish_ we were strangers."

She had her head shoved as far back into the shelf as it could go. I turned my head to meet the eyes of Hannah, Cedric, and Hayley, who had horrified expressions painted on their faces. Cedric moved to clamp a hand on my shoulder.

"And you—" I turned to face him. "I wanted _one night_ where you didn't have a band of fans following. You promised. I am _trying_ to make things work, but every time your friends make snide comments about me, it pushes me away! And you _never_ bother to stand up for me!"

All my worries about pushing him over the edge seemed to be gone. My guess was that I'd regret my words later, but right now, anger had taken over.

"I am _everyone's_ last choice. I try not to be, but I am—and that's fine. But there's no reason to invalidate me further," I reminded him, my voice shaking slightly toward the end.

Tears prickled my eyes. I blinked quickly to get rid of them, hoping my face hadn't flushed to make it seem as though I'd cry.

Marietta had moved from her spot.

"Do you really think that we—"

I didn't hesitate to turn back to her, throwing my weight behind my fist as it connected with her jaw. Pain bloomed outward from my knuckles, and when I pulled my hand back to my center, it was bloody, broken open. I hissed in horrid pain, flexing my hand as it intensified.

Marietta had staggered backwards, cupping her face.

I didn't bother to turn back and survey anyone's reaction. Adrenaline carried me toward the stairs, where I quickly escaped the library altogether, leaving my quills, ink, and hopefully my relationship behind.

*

I wasn't sure where I was going from here. I did _not_ want to deal with Maggie, so my dorm was out. The Common Room wasn't safe until I was sure Hannah, Hayley, Orin, and Cedric had gone to bed. Dinner would be wrapping up soon in the Great Hall.

I found myself on a stone bench underneath the covered section of the quad, watching the snow.

Under my robe, I had sat cross-legged, not bothering to preserve my body warmth. The adrenaline had made me feel hot, itchy. The cold was a relief against my prickly-feeling skin.

I had several feet of writing to be getting done. I should have sucked it up and just gone back to my room, I reasoned with regret.

With a wave of nausea, I thought of the grey-haired man leveling his wand at Cedric's head. I dropped my hand into my hands, closing my eyes. Cedric was going to die in this Tournament. I was sure of it. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter.

Cedric was going to die, and the last things I'd truly said to him had been cruel remarks made out of anger.

I had to apologize.

I had to make amends before...

I snapped my head back up. _Before what?_

Was I really just going to stand back while Cedric got wrapped up in something bigger than himself?

With a quick gulp, I stood on legs that were numb from the cold, turning and retreating back into the building, footsteps crunching quietly in the snow.

I may have been mad at him, but I would be damned if I allowed him to get hurt. Relationship or not.

*

The lucky thing about the yellow ties was that no one was suspicious of my every move. Slytherins weren't very well trusted, so when they approached Gryffindors, suspicions tended to rise.

"Harry. Harry Potter," I whispered, tapping his shoulder. He turned around quickly, almost startled. "Hi. Sorry to frighten you."

He smiled, his lips thin. I could tell that he had almost no idea who I was. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley sat across from him in the Great Hall, leaned into each other as they spoke quietly.

"I'm also sorry to interrupt your supper, it's terribly rude. I _need_ to talk to you privately. It's important." I wasn't fooling myself to believe that Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger wouldn't hear this, as well. They were Harry's only support systems, from what I could tell.

I caught eyes with Neville, who waved. I waved back as Harry exchanged looks with his friends, seemingly deciding whether or not their conversation could be left hanging. Harry's Gryffindor tie was pulled into a loose position, his hair wild.

"Sure," he responded, bouncing to his feet spryly. "Is everything alright..."

"Rowan," I finished for him. "Blake. Hufflepuff, fourth year."

Harry pushed his glasses up, nodding. "Right. Is everything alright, Rowan?" He asked as he followed me. I could feel the eyes on us as we rounded the corner of the Great Hall, exiting.

For a moment, I said nothing. "No," I decided, keeping my eyes ahead. "It's not alright."

I had brought Harry to the place where I sat before—in the cold—where I knew we'd be alone.

"You have no reason to believe me, I understand that. I had no reason to believe you didn't put your name in that Goblet," I started, becoming sidetracked quickly. "But I would not have been caught dead with one of those stupid buttons. You deserved the benefit of the doubt—and I hope that you think that I do, as well. What I'm going to tell you is something that absolutely needs to stay private for now. Please understand. I don't mean to burden you when there's already so much happening."

Harry looked concerned, his lips slightly parted as he dropped his arms from around himself, the cold seemingly forgotten. "I don't understand."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I wouldn't tell you any of this if you weren't experienced with strange happenings. I don't know much about you, but I do know that you have a one hundred success rate in burrowing your way out of sticky situations."

I turned to face the quad, now evenly blanketed in snow and exhaled, watching the misty cloud of carbon dioxide float away.

"On the night that we were Sorted, I was Sorted into Slytherin house. My twin brother into Hufflepuff. I woke up almost two weeks ago in a world where nothing is correct. I'm frightened. That's not even what I need to be telling you, though." I met his eyes, which were now laced with surprise. "I need you to tell me if you know absolutely anyone by the following description," I whispered, picturing the man I kept seeing in nightmares. The one who would level his wand toward Cedric.

Cedric, who in each and every nightmare, had tears welled in his eyes.

Cedric—who didn't deserve to die.

"I'm listening. Start from the beginning," Harry said, gaze sympathetic. I hated the idea of pity. However, this was further than I had gotten with Draco.

I sighed again, relieved. "Alright."

*

**SORRY LMAO**

**Thank you guys for everything!**


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